


Besides surfing, what do you think about? Love, for instance?

by scaryspice



Series: Under Pacific skies [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: (but add lots of feelings), Alternate Universe – Surfers, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Huge amounts of swearing, Jeju-do - Freeform, M/M, No Strings Attached, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 08:48:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaryspice/pseuds/scaryspice
Summary: “Tell me, Kim Mingyu,” Wonwoo finally replies, but the distress and impatience in his voice don’t go unnoticed to Mingyu’s burning ears, “what can possibly be so urgent that can’t wait for me to finish giving you head?”-The fact that they have been sleeping with each other for the past eight months should make it easier for Mingyu to confess to Wonwoo, but he seems to lose all of his courage when summer kicks in bringing the rainy season, Jungmun's swell, Wonwoo’s birthday and every other damn distraction with it.





	Besides surfing, what do you think about? Love, for instance?

**Author's Note:**

> Heyy. Lately this setting is the first thing that comes on my mind when I wake up, so I decided to write it down. This came out a little less cheerful than I first intended to when I came up with the summary, but it’s all good. No one is suffering, no one cries or anything like that. 
> 
> Also, hm… I enjoy surfing myself, however, English isn’t my first language, thus the few specific terms I used might sound a little off. I sound more eloquent in my native language, believe me. 
> 
> Please enjoy +22k of something I nicknamed “five days in sunny July”! :)
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING: the last smut scene features unsafe sex for the sake of the plot; it doesn't accurately reflects my view on this matter, just so you know.
> 
>  
> 
> For reference:
> 
> Anderson .Paak – Room in Here  
> Moonchild - Cure  
> Kehlani – Honey  
> Widowspeak – All Yours  
> Kodak Black – Skrt  
> Fiona Apple - The First Taste  
> Frank Ocean – Thinkin Bout You  
> Anderson .Paak – Room in Here (Acoustic)

_The 12th_

 

“Hyung,” Mingyu addresses Wonwoo but receives no immediate response. He rolls his eyes, familiar with the wonders Wonwoo’s lips are capable of. “Hyung?”

“Tell me, Kim Mingyu,” Wonwoo finally replies, but the distress and impatience in his voice don’t go unnoticed to Mingyu’s burning ears. “What can possibly be so urgent that can’t wait for me to finish giving you head?”

Mingyu chuckles in silence then, still looking up. Meeting Wonwoo’s gaze now while he is on his knees, displaying his devilish wet lips and probably looking up at him through fluttering lashes would cut this whole thing short and make him come then and there.

So he doesn’t.

Instead, Mingyu settles for looking around the small room the bakery employees use to rest from time to time, dissecting the details as if it’s his first time there. It’s a cubicle, but they have a two-seat fabric sofa from Ikea, a round dinner table with three chairs and lockers to keep their belongings, which seems enough to Mingyu, who has always envied the short hours Wonwoo, Seokmin and Jeonghan usually work.

“Nothing. Nevermind–ah!” Wonwoo’s mouth slides on Mingyu again and his tongue laps at the skin – warm, wet and skilled, but Mingyu is only set on fire when Wonwoo hollows his cheeks and makes him forget about everything else, “just–don’t stop, don’t stop!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jeonghan sends them a suggestive glance, showing little to no effort to hold back the smug grin that stretches his lips once he points out how evident it is that Wonwoo has been sucking Mingyu off if his flushed face and swollen lips are any indicative of it. Wonwoo’s eyes roll back into his skull and he returns to the back of the bakery in max speed, refusing to listen to Jeonghan’s comments about his sex life.

“It’s not my fault Wonwoo’s such a pervert!” Jeonghan snorts over the familiar sound of muffled talk that fills the ambient and closes the cash register drawer with a pointed sway of his hips. “It’s not a big deal though. Everybody sucks cock.”

“Unless they’re a lesbian or a straight man like yourself, of course.”

“That’s debatable. But you wouldn’t know anything about it anyways.” Jeonghan makes finger guns and winks at him.

“I’m sure that’s not how heterosexuality works, but whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Mingyu plops his arms on the counter, back turned to some of the fourteen round tables they have in the bakery, all of them occupied by aged citizens who never seem to get enough of the treats that come out non-stop from the bakery’s kitchen.

The counter shares the space with two displays, one in which the cupcakes are kept mild refrigerated, preventing the frostings from melting, dripping and creating a huge mess. A dry-wall partition on the back divides the area behind the counter from the kitchen and, pinned on it, two separate rectangular chalkboards inform all the desserts’ prices. On top of the marble countertop, besides the second display where the donuts and the rest of the cakes are kept, sits the cash register – Wonwoo can be found operating it most days, but is absent now because fixing his cocksucker face takes a couple minutes. Above their heads, big salmon letters hanging from the new ceiling plaster read “café & treats”.

“Hyung, what is Wonwoo-hyung planning for his birthday?” Mingyu asks with a pout, still managing to look cute even though he is almost 1,90m tall and his shoulders are as wide as the ones of that guy who has twice his age and has swam on Jungmun every morning of his life.

Jeonghan shrugs, grabbing a white cloth below the counter and starting to wipe the countertop in slow and repetitive circles. “I don’t think we have discussed his plans yet. I had forgotten about it, to be honest.” He looks up and their gazes meet. “What day is it again?”

Mingyu furrows his brows and curves his mouth in disbelief. “Hyung… Ah, really! You have been his friend for longer than a decade, how can you not remember?”

Jeonghan, Soonyoung, Seungcheol and Junhui have been friends with Wonwoo for more than half of their lives; therefore, Jeonghan forgetting about his childhood friend’s birthday isn’t even realistic. How could he?

“I’m kidding, man.” The older shows him a lopsided grin and stops wiping. Mingyu knows he has only started cleaning the surface because that’s what he does to avoid being assigned to yet another task by Seungcheol, their manager. Jeonghan is the type of employee who’d rather take it easy. “Hao’s right, you’re so whipped! I’ve never noticed this thing going on between you two was more than sex, but it’s actually cute.” He coos, stretching his arm to brush the knuckles of his fingers on Mingyu’s right cheek.

Mingyu dodges away from his friend’s touch, guilty for revealing a side of him he’d rather keep occult at least for the time being.

“Please don’t tell him. Actually, please forget about it…” Mingyu sighs and lowers his head, fingers touching his temples while his feet make the slight movement to pad him out of the bakery in embarrassment.

“Hey! Your skateboard,” Jeonghan remembers and Mingyu stops on his tracks, stretching a hand to claim his belongings to the boy whom he can’t look in the eyes at the moment.

Jeonghan corners the counter, then walks with light steps in his direction to pull his left arm in between them and grab Mingyu’s wrist, turning the boy’s palm up. Mingyu hooks two of his fingers and Jeonghan hangs the trucks of his board on them.

“Thank you for your business!” Mingyu hears Jeonghan say with athe same lively tone he uses with the customers before he is out the door, summer sun already hugging his body and caressing the exposed skin of his arms.

The way back to his place isn’t necessarily short, however, Mingyu has always enjoyed riding his skateboard on the roadside during summertime, when the days are longer and the blue sky is smudged by hues of bubblegum pink and coral at the end of the day, and the nights are shorter but incredibly starry. From the road he can observe the most experienced surfers get to exercise their patience as they wait for the perfect set of waves down there at the sea, legs hiding underwater, bodies sitting upon their boards that float up and down at the bumpy water mercy, and tan skins glowing beneath the warm sunlight.

The nature of the Island is breathtaking. It develops in the shape of landscapes, cool and sticky breeze blowing at the most secluded corners, eucalyptus scent mixing with the salty smell hovering in the air, a series of waterfalls and cliffs, acres of tall trees forests and vivid colors all around. Is in the southern coast that the moon decides to linger in the sky even after the night has become day, almost as if the satellite delays its journey to wherever it is awaited and longed for because it has fallen deeply in love with the Island. Mingyu is fond of the thought of this being the only possible reason for the moon to stick around for more than it’s necessary – its endless, hopeless endearment for the Island. It’s neither science nor something easily explained by scientists who hide behind round spectacles and wear claustrophobic button up shirts. Not in the summer, not in Jeju.

 

 

The moment he jumps off his board at the bungalow’s driveway, he notices something’s off. With fast and confident steps, Mingyu jogs past the trim lawn and hurdles over the three surfboards piled in front of the porch steps. They shouldn’t be there in the way to the entrance, but inside the garage, where they keep their quiver and everything else that doesn’t need to be kept in the house.

Inside the bungalow, he doesn’t find another two boys passed out at the sandy floorboards with their limbs spread, resembling what could as well be starfishes, considering the house smells as the sea most of the time – it doesn’t matter how many days the clothes remain exposed to the wind and the sun at the improvised wire they use to hang and dry the pieces in the backyard; the amount of laundry detergent they use; if the windows are closed shut or wide open; everything smells as the sea –, but instead, the house is empty and silent, except for the whispers coming from the back of the house.

Mingyu kicks his skateboard out of his way and pads past the worn-out caramel couch, following the faint sound of voices mumbling something he can’t quite understand yet. In Minghao and Seokmin’s shared bedroom, he leans out the window. The thing is a problem, he recalls as he places his hands on the white windowsill; it always gets stuck, granting the room with freezing nights when it won’t close or scorching days when it won’t open. There’s no in between.

Seokmin and Minghao’s voice mixes with Hansol’s and Soonyoung’s with easiness while they all stand side by side around a circle in the backyard, but Mingyu has to jump out the window and join them to find out what’s going on.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asks with a hint of curiosity, still a few steps distant from the quartet. A shirtless and barefoot Seokmin turns around and pouts at him. Seeing his housemate without a silly smile on his face is alarming, “Is something wrong?”

“We’re holding a funeral ceremony for Fishy,” he answers, like there’s nothing creepy or strange about this. But he is terribly wrong.

Mingyu gives a generous step toward the group and jerks his tall body over Seokmin’s own to peek at the hole, not particularly interested in the nature of the ceremony but wondering how large it is. A short guy like Jihoon could fit inside of it if he curled in fetal position.

“I’ve been here for less than thirty seconds and I already feel stupid. I’m genuinely curious as to how you all went through digging it without noticing how wack this idea is.”

Soonyoung hisses loudly. “I don’t care. Fishy’s gone. You’re insensitive. We don’t need you here.” He punctuates each sentence with a shake of his head, then adds as an afterthought, “not now, though. Your artistic skills will be requested in a bit. I have a hundred ideas for the new board Junnie is going to design for me.”

“Oh wow, you won't even wait for the body to get cold, hyung.” Minghao judges with folded arms over his chest and a lollipop poking his cheek from inside out.

Hansol huffs out a laugh and tilts his head, hands entwined and hanging low in front of his narrow hips. Soonyoung shushes him too and the boy lowers his head again to try and go back to the serious expression he has managed to hold for the past minutes. Hansol isn’t the most focused member of their group, and Mingyu gets it; being part of a group of thirteen people with completely differing personalities demands a high level of concentration. Everything happens way too fast.

Mingyu moves to stand by Minghao’s side and the shorter leans closer. Hansol helps Soonyoung with a bundle made of a duvet waiting to be buried, only a few steps away from where they gather around the hole dug on the ground, and together they kneel on the lawn to put what’s left of Fishy inside, maneuvering it with caution while Minghao’s eyes never dart away from them, “how was it with Wonwoo-hyung? You talked to him?”

“No, he gave me head and stuff got pretty intense after this,” Mingyu discloses in a low and respectful tone due to the circumstances, but saying he feels incredibly ridiculous doing it is state the obvious.

“You’re a chicken nugget made of _cowardery_ , Kim Mingyu.” Minghao whines and pauses. “Wait. Is _cowardery_ a word or have I made that up?”

“A hundred percent made up.” Hansol butts in with a blank expression.

Seokmin pokes his head from behind Minghao in a creepy manner. Everything feels kind of creepy when Seokmin isn’t smiling.

“Don’t worry, Gyu. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to confess.” He assures him, but it’s not effective at all.

Of course Mingyu is worried. Soon the whole island, if not the whole province, will be familiar with his feelings for Wonwoo. “Hao! You told everyone about it?” Mingyu slams his elbow in Minghao’s ribs and the boy bends forward, coughing instantly. His lollipop falls dramatically on the grass. The boy is a stick with head and limbs; Mingyu doesn’t know how he manages to remain rooted to the spot when the wind blows his way.

“Mingyu!” Minghao complains showing him a mix of a hurt and offended expression. Mingyu feels like elbowing him again.

Minghao breathes out an anger sigh and kicks the now dirty lollipop inside the tomb. The sweet lands exactly where Fishy’s yellow-mustard nose (or any other piece of it; the classic split-tail surfboard’s not only split in half but completely shattered) pokes out of the green duvet, Mingyu’s favorite. Shit, Soonyoung doesn’t even live in their house, how has he even found this blanket?

Soonyoung sends a silent threat between narrowed angry eyes to Minghao. The younger sighs in annoyance yet again, holding his hands in surrender, and hops inside the hole to recover his lollipop. Soonyoung sends yet another glare, this time directed to Mingyu.

“Mingyu, get a grip! No one cares about your little crush nor wants to know about your dick on Wonwoo’s mouth. You’re not special.” Soonyoung blurts in annoyance and uses the back of his dirty hand to wipe clean the sweat prickling on his forehead. “Fishy, on the other hand, is. So, yeah, if you allow me to continue this...”

Mingyu still can’t believe his friends spent half of their day digging a hole in the backward to bury a damn surfboard and show little to none interest for his issues, after he has been through copious hours of dwelling with himself whether he should go to Wonwoo’s workplace to talk it out or wait for a better moment. Things had gotten a little out of control as soon as Wonwoo took him to the back of the bakery, but Mingyu doesn’t plan on blaming himself for what happened after that.

“Fuck, my bad!” Mingyu says with the most childish tone he can pull off. “Let’s move on to important matters like burying an inanimate object, shall we? Mingyu can wait! He’s not important!”

“Wonwoo-hyung’s sarcasm is rubbing on you, Mingyu.” Seokmin comments and shoots him a half-hearted, sorry smile. Mingyu notices his own face contorting in a grimace.

“Seok is right.” Soonyoung sighs and looks down the hole. Minghao tries to get out, but Mingyu moves fast and decides to hold him inside pressing a foot on his chest, unconcerned with the wave of criticism he has just received. “If we wanted Wonwoo’s decadent sarcasm around here then we would have invited him over.” Wonwoo isn’t  _that_  sarcastic; Wonwoo is feisty and witty, which is both hot and pleasing. His timing is impeccable and he always knows what to say. “Fishy, you weren’t only my favorite board; you were my best company too.” Soonyoung wails and gets up on his bare feet again. His knees are smudged brown of soil and a few blades of grass stick to his skin.

“Minghao, you were an awful best friend and you couldn’t keep a secret for shit.” Mingyu follows his friend solemnly. “I wish I could say you’re in a better place now, but being friends with you for so long has taught me you’re probably in hell, claiming the throne that is rightfully yours.”

“Unlike Minghao, you’ll be missed, Fishy!” Seokmin laments. Hansol cackles one more time and loses a bit of his balance, almost falling inside the hole too.

“Fuck you, Mingyu. Let me out!”

“It’s like I still can hear his voice... So creepy!”

 

 

 

 

 

_The 13th_

 

 

Before meeting Wonwoo, Mingyu had never had a friend who owned a swimming pool before. The moment he welcomed all of them inside his family’s five bedrooms house the previous december, when his parents spent a whole month in Seoul because of reasons unknown to Mingyu as well as everybody else, he figured that having a rich friend like him would have been useful for the past nineteen scorching summers spent in the island.

You see, working as a waiter at the town’s Yacht Club, Mingyu has always been aware of the existence of rich individuals. However, the concept of rich people sharing the same spaces as him and his friends felt unfamiliar and unreal. Then came in Wonwoo, who never really acted like those spoiled children Mingyu’s used to deal with at work, who loved their hometown as much as him, who would spend every free moment of his at the beach even if his parents owned a swimming pool at home, and even managed to magically swap Mingyu of his feet.

Not bad for a loaded rich kid.

Mingyu is late and still wondering who had the brilliant idea of dressing all the staff in white tonight. He is still struggling to pass the jacket of his suit past his elbows and tucking his equally white shirt inside the black pleated trousers of his uniform at the same time he pushes the swing doors of the Yacht Club’s kitchen and hurries inside.

Following Tuesday night protocol, the place is brimming with noise. The Head Chef bosses all the cooks around balancing a pan on fire on each of his hands meanwhile waiters dressed exactly like Mingyu come in and out of the kitchen in a rush and the busboys are pressed by the maître to get inside the ballroom and clean the tables.

Hansol materializes in front of him and grips the lapel of his jacket, helping Mingyu to tuck his arms inside after a short swirl of his body.

“You’re late.” The dirty-blond haired with a plaster the same tone of his complexion on his upper cheek says, not a single hint of judgement in his voice, as expected from Hansol. The thing hides a new bruise he got after being wiped out and hit by the nose of Jihoon’s board the previous week.

“I know, I know. I couldn’t find my name tag anywhere. This shit has legs, I swear.” He clarifies at the same moment Amber, a waitress with short hair and long limbs, shoos Hansol back to his duties and comes closer to tighten the bow tie hanging from Mingyu’s neck as if it is in a miserable attempt against its own life. Her fingers move up to fix the strands of his neatly styled quiff before he even notices how her hands arrived there so fast.

“Mingyu, sweetie. There’s a fancy business meeting going on. You’re designed to stay in the ballroom serving drinks from the bar, ok? Alright, you’re good to go. Don't fuck it up.” She warns after giving a harsh slap on his shoulder.

Mingyu nods moving past her to grab one of the clean silver trays piled on a dessert cart and steps inside the ballroom through another swing door, this one fancier than the first. There, he is met by the sight of well-dressed people gathering in groups of five or eleven of them, no rules here, some of them standing and others having seats at the round golden tables covered in tablecloths made of white linen, as of every night, drinking - no, scratch that, chugging cocktails and brandy liquor. Some of them don't even seem to feel the punch anymore, way too used to reuniting there with their friends or business partners and attend parties like this where they can fill the room with the sound of muffled conversation and obnoxious laughter and listen to American or British songs from past decades with a lot of trumpets involved.

Serving fancy cocktails to alcoholic rich people it’s quite an easy job and dressing preppy it’s honestly only a small price to be paid. The money’s alright. And that aside, Mingyu only works four days or nights per week and anytime he has a break he hides on the back to get whatever fancy food they’re cooking in the kitchen, which is a plus considering he is hungry most of the time.

Bopping his head along to the music, Mingyu approaches the bar, where Minghao, the barman, has his back to the room, preparing drinks with swift movements and the sapience of someone who got too used with their chore, but he also seems to be enjoying the music considering the tap of his feet at the linoleum flooring.

Mingyu places his tray on the countertop with a metallic thump that only the two of them hear and Minghao swirls on his vinyl shoes to face his friend, brows shooting up when their gazes meet.

“You're late.” He states, plain and simplistic, very Minghao of him.

Mingyu clicks his tongue. “Tell me something I don't know for a change. What you got for me?”

Minghao walks the meter separating the two of them and places two cocktail glasses on the tray, then adds two more, each one of them neatly decorated with olives in toothpicks. He gestures with his chin to a group of people occupying a table behind a tall column. “These martinis are for the two guys standing and the ladies with them. Hurry up, asshole, Amber-noona threatened to ask for my head if I screw up tonight.”

“Guess you’re not the only one.”

Mingyu incarnates his professional flat face and does as he is told, bowing slightly before serving drinks to the group of four. He walks around the venue for a bit, approaching the individuals whose glasses are half empty, and returns to the bar in five minutes, rattling on seven different orders to his housemate.

“Hey,” Minghao calls, handing him chubby glasses of cherry wine, a tall one of bubbling champagne and a lowball full of a brown beverage that looks terrible and capable of knocking down someone after the first sip. “You tucked yourself inside your bedroom after the guys left last night. Were you sad about not talking to Wonwoo-hyung?”

Mingyu rearranges the glasses in his shiny silver tray, observing the reflection of his hands upon the surface. “Shit, no. I was skyping my mom. She was being a handful again, asking me if anything else goes through my head besides sitting my butt on my board every chance I get.” He explain with a scrunched up nose that displays his distaste.

Minghao snorts and nods his head, familiar with the issu. Mingyu’s mom never accepted the fact he moved out of his family’s place and into his grandparents’ empty bungalow to live with his friends two days after they graduated from high school. The woman doesn’t quite grasp the whole concept of leaving your family house in search of some independence and often refers to Mingyu’s moving out as an act of rebellion, when, in fact, Mingyu only wanted to be closer to the beach and in the company of his friends, working somewhere in which he could have flexible hours and surf his free hours away.

“But anyways. I do have a life apart from Wonwoo. It’s not like I’m worried about him or our relationship every time I’m not hanging out with you. Being into him doesn’t make me a complete sucker.”

Hansol joins them, sliding behind the bar counter with a large plastic tray attached to his hips, meaning to collect all the dirty glasses inside the sink and return them to the kitchen.

“Yeah, it does.” Minghao shoot him a glance that challenges Mingyu’s statement. Albeit Minghao _is_ a terrible friend who permanently roasts him, thus causing Mingyu to judge his own obvious lack of selectiveness when it comes to befriending human beings, the boy is on a roll tonight. “You get all riled up when you don’t see him for more than three days and you haven’t slept with anyone else for the past months. You’re the biggest sucker I know.”

“You haven’t brought anyone else home either.” Mingyu retorts, getting defensive. The only person sleeping on Minghao’s bed lately is Hansol the nights he is either too lazy or drunk to go home, but that’s just the norm. The two of them are attached to the hip although Hansol is one of the nicest people Mingyu has met and Minghao is, well, like this.

“But that’s because I’m selective and don’t sleep around.” He answers, nose rising arrogantly like a stuck up asshole.

“Talking to Wonwoo isn't as easy as it seems, man. We never seem to be alone and whenever we are, I can't find the right words. Or, worse than that, he’ll start _touching_ me in places in which he knows my body will respond right away.”

“Guess tonight’s your lucky night then.” Minghao informs, starting to help a distraught Hansol to pile up the glasses in the tray in a way they won’t fall and get them discounted from their paychecks.

Albeit aware the Jeon family belonged to the board of members of the Yacht Club, during these eight months they have been sleeping together, Mingyu has never seen Wonwoo participating in events like this. In fact, they had only met each other around the club’s facilities once, months and months ago, and for extenuating circumstances more than due to Wonwoo’s desire of visiting the place.

That being said, Mingyu’s surprised when Minghao tilts his pointed chin and indicates the older’s presence when his eyes are in the same level as Mingyu’s again, gesturing to a corner of the large ballroom. “Talk to him.” He commands and then turns around again to toss an empty bottle of vodka in the trash bin below the shelves where half the bottles are kept.

Following the path Minghao’s eyes indicated, Mingyu immediately starts looking for Wonwoo. And there he is found, near the tall arched window from where the pier leading to the sea can be seen in its entire glory, surrounded by older people and smiling politely to a short girl whose back is turned to Mingyu, making it impossible for him to see her face.

Wonwoo is dressed like all the other men attending the meeting, but his clothes are all black – from his shoes and pants to his button up shirt and suit jacket. The suit hugs his lithe body in all the right places, his bangs fall over his eyes, he isn’t wearing his glasses and his looks are outstanding, matching with the exposed bits of his skin, sun kissed due to all the days spent soaking up the sunlight.

Mingyu has never understood the hype around this kind of fashion; he’d rather watch Wonwoo getting naked or at least shirtless with only his damp shorts clinging to his skin for dear life after an entire day surfing on Jungmun beach. However, his outfit is somewhat remarkable and appealing to his eyes tonight. Mingyu suspects he is even more in love after a moment observing the boy, still oblivious to his presence – just a sneak peek of him is enough to knock the air out of his lungs.

Although Wonwoo initially looks like an outsider trying to fit in this odd environment, he warms up in no time, giggling like a child at moments. Wonwoo and the girl in front of him talk for what feels like hours, and although the discomfort of not being able to spend his night with Wonwoo grows at the sight, he pretends not being bothered by it and even avoids approaching said group of people throughout the night.

There’s this tiny, inconspicuous smile coated with expectative blossoming in Wonwoo’s lips every occasion in which their gazes meet or any other time Mingyu walks past the older with his tray in his hands. After the third or twelfth – the flood of orders and the constant back and forth walk inside the ballroom often confuses him, truth be told – brief smile, Mingyu considers offering Wonwoo a drink, but upon further inspection, the male doesn’t even have a glass in his possession, so Mingyu decides to beeline his way towards the opposite side of the room and take another group orders instead.

Mingyu refills the same guy’s glass eight times and along with Minghao and Hansol, he puts money on an empty jar below the bar’s counter, betting over when the man will start to finally get tipsy. He is returning from the ninth refill of whiskey when Wonwoo surprises him mid-way by bumping on him on purpose, demanding his tray in sequence, only to deposit it on top of an empty table near the discreet emergency door and pull him by the front of his white jacket suit out of the ballroom and to the stairs.

The old and heavy fire door closes behind of them with a loud and metallic creak and they’re engulfed by the faint set of white lights and heavy silence, music dying once the steel door is completely shut. They stand on opposed sides at the steps like two acquaintances that never had the chance to get to know each other more deeply, this strange environment making everything awkward and less organic.

“Were you avoiding me?” Wonwoo prompts in a rush, apparently bothered by Mingyu’s unavailability. He stands exactly in the middle of the gap between a wall and another.

“No, of course not.” Mingyu leans backwards on the wall behind him with arms crossed over his chest, unconsciously running away from Wonwoo. “I just happen to not being assigned to that side of the room.” The lie slips off his tongue with such easiness it makes his stomach churn as a consequence. It gets easier after the fifty time, he learned some time ago, on a day he felt terribly down for developing feelings for someone he was supposed to fuck and only that, coming up with a dumb excuse as to why he wouldn’t be able to meet up with Wonwoo that night.

“I know you, Mingyu, and you’re a terrible liar,” he says almost under his breath, and in the exact moment Mingyu starts to feel bad for lying to the boy in front of him and considers apologizing, Wonwoo changes the subject abruptly, pointing a finger to his chest, “it’s a nice suit. You look hot wearing it.” It’s so sudden and at the same time so predictable how their chat ends up swerving until it becomes yet another conversation about sex.

“Same goes to you, hyung. You could probably charm anyone’s pants off with this suit.”

“Including yours? You get turned on when I dress like a snob boy? I would never have guessed it!”

“It turns me on when you dress nothing.” Mingyu tries to act casual, but ends up failing immensely. There’s nothing casual about the two of them dressed in suits and acting all stiffy in each other’s presence.

Everything's wrong in this setting. Instead of Jihoon strumming his fingers over the chords of his acoustic guitar, following Joshua’s own as they sit at the bungalow’s living room, all Mingyu can hear is soft music he never really listened to before. Everybody’s drinking martini instead of cheap tequila that might as well be mixed with gas or poisoning substances, and the place smells like Cuban cigars instead of the sweet scent that rats out on all the blunts that have been lit at once inside of Soonyoung, Jihoon and Junhui’s fifth floor apartment.

“This doesn't feel right, does it?” He insists, “I mean, the music, the atmosphere, how it doesn't smell like the sea.” And adds, “I never learned how they do that. Everywhere else at this side of the Island but here smells like it.”

Wonwoo shrugs and gives two steps forward, shortening the distance between them. “Well, my parents dragged me here against my will, but I do like the music.” He argues, disturbed by Mingyu’s comment. There he is, Mingyu thinks to himself, there’s the Wonwoo he knows and loves, the one who often disagrees with him just for kicks. “It’s Sade’s The Sweetest Taboo; it's a classic.”

Mingyu feels his heart beating faster inside his chest, or perhaps, it starts to skip beats. He doesn’t know for sure. “Shit. Come here.” He gives in and reaches for Wonwoo's face with a hand, pulling the elder even closer with a soft tug on his chin. Being apart when they’re in the same space can be unbearable sometimes.

The disturbing pang in Mingyu’s chest is new to him, but he figures the insecurity is similar to Jungmun’s waves: it comes after huge intervals and then all at once. Mingyu is continuously looking for a sign that this means more than sex whenever Wonwoo is being pounded into and moaning his name in between needy pants.

Mingyu needs it now. Not the sex per se, but to re-live those short and intense moments in which Wonwoo tells him everything he wants to hear because he feels extremely good inside and can't control the words that slip through his lips.

Wonwoo walks the final step between them and Mingyu never let go of his confident grasp on the boys face. There’s an unfamiliar sternness in Wonwoo’s eyes, as if he’s about to protest, maybe tell Mingyu to stop acting like a prude, but then Mingyu tugs his face to the side and kisses a spot below his ear, claiming his skin as his territory, and any trace of stubbornness coming from the other fades under his touch.

“We should go somewhere else,” Wonwoo proposes in a flirtatious tone. Mingyu feels hot all over because he knows exactly what he means. “Unless you want to do it right here.”

Wonwoo cranes his head and gives Mingyu more space for him to deliver kisses along his neck. “One day someone will finally catch us and we’ll lose our jobs. This is probably considered inappropriate behavior, don’t you think?” Mingyu questions but doesn’t stop himself from diving further and licking small stripes on the exposed skin. Wonwoo hums slowly, acknowledging Mingyu’s concern, but enjoying the sensations the lips attached to his neck provide him nevertheless. “You’re addicted to–“  
  
“Not seeing you trying to stop me though.” He whispers a moment later, causing Mingyu’s body to shiver, the hairs of his arm rising under his suit jacket and button down shirt. “You’re a huge fan of our inappropriate behavior.”

The younger wants to either agree or tell the other he loves _anything_ Wonwoo offers him in exchange of having the boy in his arms, but this isn’t the proper time to confess, because Wonwoo’s fingers start to losing the knot of the bow-tie around his neck and if Mingyu doesn’t take the male somewhere else soon, he is positive that Wonwoo will start to undress him whether risking being busted by anyone willing to take the stairs or not.

Mingyu decides to finish it sooner than later and to walk them downstairs and into the swimming pool gymnasium — vacant and dark at this hour of the night, activities being suspended in favor of the party happening upstairs — hands leading Wonwoo inside with a possessive touch of his hand at the small of his back as he shuts the door behind them.

The taller is onto Wonwoo again the moment they’re inside the spacious locker room, pushing him to the nearest empty wall. Wonwoo breathes heavily, like the first breath you take after being underwater for too long, for longer than you thought you could, and Mingyu runs a tongue on his lips to coax the boy to part them so he can taste him better. Wonwoo obeys, hands clawing to his neck, pulling him closer, until their bodies are flushed one to another.

As they start making out properly, rhythm a tad less hurried now, Wonwoo draws hypnotizing patterns on Mingyu’s skin, causing yet another shiver to run down the entire extension of the younger’s spine, body almost going limp, skin getting hotter to the touch, pulse rollercoastering, head starting to feel light like he might float away any time now. Mingyu feels wonderful, but he doesn’t plan on ending this before he has Wonwoo exactly where and how he wants, and what he wants is to make Wonwoo feel so pleased he can’t think about anything else but Mingyu.

Against his body’s will, Mingyu pulls away either way and Wonwoo interprets this as a hint to attack his neck, nibbling at the skin and intercalating it with open mouthed kisses. Feeling his wet lips touch his jawline, Mingyu recalls how they fit well sex wise; he can’t find anything he doesn’t like about having sex with Wonwoo.

“Hyung.” He tries to draw Wonwoo’s attention, meaning to ask him to slow down and let him do the work.

“Not again, Mingyu. If you start with this again I swear to God—” Wonwoo muffles the impatient warning on his skin. Mingyu chuckles quietly then, adam’s apple bobbing up and causing Wonwoo to whine in need as his lips move down to kiss the column of his throat instead.

“You swear to God on what?” Mingyu dares Wonwoo to finish the threat. He cards his long and thick fingers over Wonwoo’s hair to tug his head backwards, the knuckles of his own fingers padding the crown of the head to prevent it from hitting the wall where they’re propped onto. Wonwoo’s chin tilts up and displays his ever challenging lopsided smile but Mingyu has none of it, focusing instead on how pink his lips are from all the friction inflicted to them and looking so delicious. “I want to wreck you for anybody else,” he reports with dark eyes, meaning it.

  
Even locked in and away from the rest of the world, no ears but their own to acknowledge it, there’s a brief moment of hesitation after the confession.

Showing no trace of objection, Wonwoo allows Mingyu to make good of his own promise and whatever else he plans to, eyes fluttering close, head being tilted out of the way and expectation written all over his features. Taking this as a green light, Mingyu roams his hands all the way down Wonwoo’s clothed back until they reach his crotch, applying pressure on the hardening cock with the tip of his fingers. Mingyu takes his time nibbling and licking every inch of skin being so eagerly offered to him, keeping in mind that if he works nicely upon the skin, the purple and red marks will be in full view for everybody else back in the ballroom to see when they eventually walk out the door; Wonwoo’s parents might scold him and he’ll be in huge trouble, but the boy doesn’t seem to mind one bit about the consequences of allowing Mingyu to bruise him, pliant under the younger’s ministrations and encouraging him to go on and don’t hold back.

Mingyu only has the right mind to pause his expedition across Wonwoo’s skin when the thought of actually taking care of his and Wonwoo’s erection crosses his mind again. So he opens the zipper of Wonwoo’s black pants at the same time in which Wonwoo’s hands slide from his shoulders straight to his chest, not bothering to undress him out of his jacket but working the buttons open, not skipping a bit. Wonwoo yanks the fabric out of where they tucked inside of Mingyu’s pants when he reaches the last buttons and his broad chest, slender waist and flat stomach come in full display. His mouth goes back to leaving a trail of kisses down, down and down his collarbones, past the chest and stomach, making Mingyu’s hand slip off of his pants with the shift of positions.

Wonwoo has this thing that shouldn’t be so sexy and cause Mingyu’s cock to stir in even more interest but does anyways, when he tries to please Mingyu by worshipping his cock and pushing aside his own need to be touched. It’s like a preference or kink or whatever that Mingyu is well familiar with after eight months, but isn’t keen on fulfilling tonight, in behalf of making Wonwoo orgasm with his name in his mouth and not the other way around.

Tonight, Mingyu has only one thing on his mind, and he’s determined to please Wonwoo until the latter is numb to the world.

He pulls Wonwoo upwards again with a hand circling his throat because that’s the safest bet to make Wonwoo interested in following him back up again, careful not to tighten his grip, and forces a kiss on his lips when he has his undivided attention, making it clear this isn’t the most suitable moment for him to go down on his knees to blow him. Wonwoo waits patiently for the next step and it’s one of the sexiest things Mingyu has ever seen, because Wonwoo is always so fucking anxious to keep on moving when they have sex. “Let me take care of us.” Mingyu informs with a husky and steady voice.

Wonwoo nods with ease and hides a patient little smirk behind thin lips. Mingyu’s hand move from Wonwoo’s throat to his own belt, unbuckling it in sequence. He unzips his black pants and adjusts the piece of clothing past his waist to pull his cock ou, then repeats the process with Wonwoo as he had planned previously. Mingyu’s mind gets a little hazy when Wonwoo can’t wait anymore and snakes a hand on the nape of his neck to bring his head down and bite his bottom lip, pulling it between his sharp teeth. A moan follows. And another one, this time belonging to Wonwoo, then the touch of skilled fingers to narrow hips, flushing their chests one more time. Their erections get in contact and this is enough to make the older bite Mingyu’s lips so hard in surprise that it makes him think he might leave this locker without them.

“Fuck, sorry.” Wonwoo groans and allows his head to lower until his forehead is pressed on Mingyu’s shoulder, hips rutting together and in similar rhythm. His pants are so delicious Mingyu forgets about his new bruise immediately.

Haze morphs into total bliss when Mingyu shoves a hand into the impossible tight space left between their bodies to squeeze Wonwoo’s erection. The male is still hiding on the curve of his neck, but Mingyu wants to kiss him so bad that he pulls his face away to give it a glimpse. Only one.

Wonwoo’s face is flushed and his eyelids are heavy. Mingyu isn’t a connoisseur of how pupils’ work but he is positive Wonwoo’s are slightly blown as he looks out of breath with his lips parted like that, puffing small amounts of air that fan over Mingyu’s chin delicately. Then his eyes travel a bit up again and they hold each other’s gazes seconds before Mingyu decides to press his lips to the shell of his ear. He pulls the earlobe between his teeth, feeling Wonwoo’s heartbeat speeding up so close to his chest that it seems the male’s heart is also beating inside his own rib cage. Maybe it is, indeed.

“You’re mind blown beautiful,” the taller praises fondly, being undoubtedly honest. “One day I wanna fuck you hard while you look yourself in the mirror. You’ll know what I’m talking about.” And it’s a bit funny, so Wonwoo snorts, helpless. His mouth opens to speak something and he grips at Mingyu’s open shirt for balance, as if Mingyu’s words are enough to make his legs tremble.

It’s devastatingly blissful when Mingyu runs a thumb at the slit of Wonwoo’s penis and flicks his wrist in sequence, smearing the viscid warm liquid over the head for lubrification, feeling his own erection leaks precome in the same pace.

“Holy shit, Mingyu—really, you make me feel so...” Wonwoo mumbles, eyes fluttered closed, words dying on his tongue before they even have the chance of leaping past his lips.

Mingyu kisses his jawline and Wonwoo claims seeing stars behind his eyelids when his hand find a rhythm that matches pretty much with the beat of his own heart, and starts to jerk Wonwoo’s erection, causing the older to lose track of the obscenities Mingyu’s tongue and teeth imbed on his skin.

Mingyu is as blissed out as he can be, feeling similar to when a seventeen-year-old Seokmin, the lunatic decided that they should try weed and they ended up tripping for two hours. Mingyu has never smoked again since.

He reaches for his own cock and start to jerk it too, two different tones of skin inside of his left hand. It’s a bit too rough when they finally kiss again and they’ll probably have blood on their lips when they leave the locker room, but it’s definitely worth it. Mingyu shifts the weight of his body to make them rub together the way he knows it’ll drive Wonwoo crazy and gets them off faster.

His needy groan is muffled by the heat of their kiss. For some reason, every time they have sex, Wonwoo’s brilliant brain seems to be put to sleep–he knows nothing and wants everything but every word seems to be douse in his mouth and never come out to see the light of the day. Wonwoo’s not particularly vocal when it comes to sex, but Mingyu is getting good at decoding his flawless small signals whenever he’s being edged like this.

“Mingyu-yah, please,” and it’s almost a whisper but Mingyu is sure he heard his intentions because his eyes drop to where his erection is meeting Wonwoo’s and he bucks his hips unable to resist, their precome coating his palm and making his task easier. Wonwoo’s own cock is eager to rub against his, already twitching a little, and—it’s overwhelming. Wonwoo will orgasm right here if they don’t put them to work.

“Fuck, hyung, look at you begging for me.” Mingyu teases with exhaling arousal, already aware he’ll climax once he feels Wonwoo spilling between his fingers.

“Please, Gyu, don’t stop.” Wonwoo moans one more time.

“Hyung… Wonwoo, how much do you want me?” He dares to ask, bold and absolutely narcissistic regarding Wonwoo’s feelings; his skin itches to know the dimension of his commitment. Mingyu wants to hear it so desperately.

Wonwoo doesn’t take long to answer. Hell, Mingyu is not even sure if Wonwoo is still thinking right while he bucks his hips forward and tells him, “A lot. Want you like I’ve never–I need you so much.” He reveals with his deep voice and when Mingyu thinks he is going all limp in his embrace, Wonwoo raises his body again and pecks him once, ending the kiss tugging his plump lips between his teeth one more time, this time careful not to wound him again.

Mingyu wishes they were elsewhere, having sex properly instead of a hushed, although amazing, quickie. Mingyu officially hates Tuesdays, starting now: if they weren't in this stupid club, they could be in his bed with all the time in the world in their hands and fucking until they were spent, only to repeat it again after a nap.

Everything is a bit of a rampage from this moment on.

Wonwoo chokes how close he is, and Mingyu is close too, but he furrows his brows and concentrates in making them reach their climaxes together. It’s great to see their precome mixing on his palm, not sure where his body starts and Wonwoo’s ends, the slick sounds that come from the mixture and movements are subtle but enough to echo across the locker room tiled walls, nearly driving him off the edge.

He knows Wonwoo is going to release when he feels the change in the rhythm of his breath, right there where their chests meet. It comes naturally, shaped as little sobs, and then he inhales one more time and holds the air inside of his lungs. It’s final. And when he exhales for the last time, his cock starts spurting, warm and slick, over Mingyu’s cock and fist. Wonwoo zones out for a moment or two, letting his hips buckle one last time as pleasure hits him and he rides his orgasm.

He is brought back with the tender bite Mingyu leaves on his earlobe, an arm holding him securely around the waist, and Wonwoo groans, legs still a tad weak. He tries to pull out but Mingyu hisses as he feels their now sensitive cocks – not gripping anymore, but holding, maybe resting – rub in his hand at the shift of position, so he gives a mindful step back intending to cause the least discomfort possible.

Wonwoo helps him to fix his pants and belt again while Mingyu stands there with his arms spread, unable to touch his uniform with his yucky hands. Ever so careful Wonwoo smirks knowingly while he does so, buttoning Mingyu’s shirt slowly and tucking it back inside his pants in sequence, making a show out of it.

Wonwoo accompanies him to the sinks and rests his head in the middle of Mingyu’s shoulder blades while the latter washes his hands before their mess starts to dry in his hands, hugging him from behind. He sighs contently enough for someone who just had amazing sex.

They part ways after returning upstairs and head back to the ballroom, where the party is still going, and Mingyu pretends nothing happened and he hasn’t spend thirty minutes away as he approaches Minghao and Hansol, who apparently has replaced him at the serving task. Albeit Minghao holds a grimace that doesn’t match one bit with the satisfied grin Mingyu can’t help but sport, Hansol offers the taller a thumbs up and assures him it’s all good.

“Gyu,” Minghao sighs, watching Hansol return Mingyu’s tray to his hands. “We were just talking about how your dick must be eligible for Hall of Fame since Wonwoo-hyung can't keep his hands off of you for a single day.”

Mingyu snorts, already spotting Wonwoo back to the same place he had been for the whole night before their escapade, struggling to keep up with whichever subject is being discussed by his parents and the people on their company, neck strangely craned to hide the new addition of hickeys on his pale skin.

Mingyu sends him a confidant smug grin that is returned with a more sheepish one when he is caught staring. It’s uncommon and it catches Mingyu’s attention, but it’s already out his mind the moment Amber’s head pops from inside the kitchen and the woman sends him a sultry gaze that says a lot.

 

 

 

_The 14th_

 

The moon is yet to bear its goodbye when Joshua’s navy-blue pickup truck emerges from a familiar slope on the silent road. Still up in the sky as it decorates the clearer shade of blue background, the moon seems especially lazy this dawn of day.

After the warmest winter so far, a sunny spring with aroused bees and flowers blooming all over the place had been predicted, but Mingyu and nearly every resident of the Island were left hanging by Mother Nature and all they got was an odd and dull spring, muggy days, cloudy skies and vast fields of rapeseeds dripping rainwater. By the end of May, though, the sun started to make itself noticeable and shooed away every vestige of the gloominess spread around the province, craving to bless the island with the summer warmth earlier than usual.

This is what you get in Jeju. The seasons are tricky, but Mingyu is positive the island always holds the best of intentions. This beautiful, sunny summer day says so.

Mingyu’s barefoot as a result of not having proper time to find his slippers after being woken up by four loud boys shouting “Surf’s up! Surf’s up! Surf’s up!” in unison, as a mantra, whilst jumping up and down with their arms around each other’s necks, forming a circle made of pure happiness in the living room. He had been conducted to sit on the old armchair that belonged to his grandpa and tucked inside of a white t-shirt he later wondered if was even clean. Mingyu was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes and feeling the reminiscent sand from their last surf day between his toes when they got inside Joshua’s car and the latter pressed the gas pedal to back up from the bungalow driveway.

On the passenger rear view mirror all he can see is a few houses, green fields and a group of haenyeos walking down the roadside, carrying buckets full of clams and abalones bound to be sold at the street market downtown. As the automobile overtakes Chan’s bike in which he carries Seungkwan on the back, both boys shout from the top of their lungs, and Hansol, Minghao and Seokmin blow them mocking kisses out the backseat windows.

Joshua, the driver, cackles a little at the boys’ antics and withdraws a hand from the steering wheel to comb his red-brownish hair away from his eyes, the strands being blown on his face by the wind coming inside the car through the rolled down windows.

The car starts its familiar shimmy over the gravel ground that leads to the beach and informs its passengers that they are heading closer to the cliff, the automobile’s final destination. Once they bolt out the car to stand before the hood, Mingyu stretches the muscles of his back with entwined hands behind his neck and watches the water splashing against the rocks down the cliff. “How many days until it goes flat, hyung?” He asks Joshua, having lost track of Jeju’s cycle of tides some time between winter and spring, never being one to religiously follow the calendar anyways.

Joshua sways his body and swirls on his heels to face Mingyu. The older informs they still have at least three days of surf ahead with the confidence of an expert who has his shit together like no else Mingyu has ever met before, considering the island's nearly unpredictable weather. Working as a lifeguard leaves little to no time for Joshua to surf in between shifts, but he always manages to join the others whenever he isn’t on duty.

During the rainy season, they usually are left with the sole option of a few days of swell and then four or five days of flat water in sequence. It’s far from ideal, and yet, enough to pass the time, albeit the group is still quite bitter regarding the amount of time they had to spend inside their houses or working during spring. As soons as the winter was over, Mingyu himself visited this cliff every off day he got, in case Joshua and Seungcheol’s forecasts were wrong and the swell had magically started earlier than they expected.

The unmistakable sound of the tires of Chan’s bike is heard when they’re already too close. Minghao and Hansol jump out of the way when Seungkwan lets out an exasperated yelp, and the five of them can’t do nothing but watch the bike start to go down the slender track made of black-lava pebbles that lead to the beach. With a painful expression, an always lucid Joshua predicts an accident: meanwhile Chan guffaws with the excitement of a child getting ready for a beach day, Seungkwan continues to scream in concern, carrying both their surfboards under his arms, unable to hold onto Chan and avoid his fall as the bike rattles all the way down the track.

The duo miraculously arrive safe and sound to the semicircle of dark beige sand surrounded by a wall of deep green vegetation that crawls up the extension of the cliff. Down there, they’re welcomed by familiar faces, who managed to arrive even earlier than them. Mingyu wonders if they’ve slept at all.

Mingyu climbs up the trunk – the area is a mess of wax bars melted by last summer’s rare sunny days and sand, and in addition, every corner of it is sticky with something no one have bothered to investigate yet –, hands each board on the pile built when they left the bungalow to its owner, and they go down the track too, bare feet hurting a little on the pebbles, new bars of wax in their hands, breeze not as soft blowing grains of sand on their faces.

Mingyu isn’t exactly surprised to find Junhui, an avid member of dawn patrol, already breathless and wet, reporting the water conditions to the others when they join them on the sand. As the boys start to prepare to get inside the water as rapid as they can, balancing the boards on their flexed knees, trying to rub the wax on the decks as evenly as possible, Wonwoo comes out of the water and joins them. The others dash toward the water after this, but although following them is tempting, Mingyu finds a seat by Wonwoo’s side, using the cramps on his left hand from rubbing the wax so hard as an excuse to stay.

The others join Jihoon where their feet get charmingly kissed by the foam, sand playing hide and seek between their toes. The group takes precious seconds to admire the timid set of waves forming not too far from there after a week of complete flatness, but soon enough, Minghao and Hansol decide to pursuit another rush and jog toward the slime boulders, which not even the unstoppable attack of waves have managed to smooth the sharp edges of, at the feet of the cliff. The current is brutal near the cliff’s wall and it’s been an entire year since Mingyu surfed on that side of the beach, too afraid to drift away and end up crushed against the rocks.

Wonwoo and Mingyu observe, in silence, the brave Minghao be the first to jump head first to the sea and then be followed close behind by Hansol. The water closes around them akin to angry fists refusing to let go of something, but soon they emerge again, drenched in salty water, with their hairs slicked back, and climb on their boards, already ahead from the rocks by a few meters.

“I thought about calling you early,” Wonwoo informs with his quiet nature. They have been silent for a few good minutes. “To ask if you guys wanted to come with us and all that… But then I remembered Joshua is Jeju’s uncertified weather man and figured you’d come anyways.”

Wonwoo reaches a hand to Mingyu’s ankle to fasten the leash of his board around it, absentminded. The waterproof watch on his wrist reads seven o’clock, but his wrinkled fingertips tell Mingyu the male has been inside water for far too long now.

“At what time did you arrive? You probably went to bed late, right?” Mingyu asks, feeling the faint yet ragged touch of Wonwoo’s fingers on his skin. After making out with Wonwoo at the lockers, Mingyu had a lot to do and missed the moment the boy left the party with his family in tow.

“I went to bed past two I guess. Jeonghan was at the door by six.” Wonwoo withdrawals his hand from Mingyu’s ankle and smiles to no one in particular, seemingly proud of being helpful. “Bet you’re tired. Huge party and all that. Difficult crowd.”

“I am, but I wouldn’t miss the first day of swell after a whole week.”

“You wouldn’t.” Wonwoo agrees and smiles wider than before this time, mischievous as only he can be. Mingyu mimics him even though he has no idea what the boy is about to say. “We should hang out later so I can help you relax. We can eat something and… I don’t know, do whatever.” He pauses and shrugs.

Mingyu huffs out a laugh and drops his head low between his shoulders again. Wonwoo makes sex sound so casual and spontaneous and it’s a shame Mingyu hasn’t been capable of learning anything with him; lately, sex with Wonwoo has been anything but casual. “I’m game.”

There in the distance, Chan slides over a big wave with a hand brushing the face of it at the same moment that Joshua, Seungkwan and Soonyoung push their boards down with their knees and duck dive to avoid being hit by his board. Their heads come up on the other side of the wave seconds later, all synchronized moves.

As Wonwoo watches them with fondness, Mingyu notices his lashes are glued together, forming small wet triangles. It’s cute as hell.

Wonwoo cranes his neck to the side and a couple small lilac hickeys right below his jawline come in display. They’ll fade out soon but it’s enough to make Mingyu hide a smirk as he looks down to the board on his lap, mentally tapping himself on the back for the good job. He wants to kiss it and suck his skin again to make it more prominent, but he knows he’ll have to wait until later, when they’ll together and by themselves again.

“Shit, I wish I could stay but I have to go.” The older complains lazily. “Girls will be by themselves if I don’t show up and I can’t trust them. I’ll text you after I leave work.” Wonwoo adds and winks at him, not bothering with offering him a proper goodbye.

Jeongyeon, Jihyo and Dahyun – a trio that always seem to have matching iridescent vinyl bags attached to their backs and are famous for taking enormous lunch breaks with the sole purpose of hanging out by the slush machine at the convenience store across from the bakery. Whenever Mingyu pops up there to visit Seokmin, Jeonghan and Wonwoo, the girls cling to his neck for dear life to avoid the boys who try to persuade the girls on going out on dates with them. They press their cheeks against his and rub their faces together so hard they might fuse, being extra affectionate as they go on questioning him about his night shift at the Yacht Club, how many waves he rode in his latest morning at the beach, if he has eaten already and if he's warm, all three girls at once, while Wonwoo offers him not only a helpless smile but a vanilla muffin on the house and already settled in a plate on the counter, as well. When Mingyu’s not around, Jeonghan doesn't hesitate on using a mop to chase the boys away and out the store.

Wonwoo jumps up on his feet and yanks his blue board with details in orange from the sand, still damp from morning dew. Junhui’s tiny signature is visible there below the single stringer on the center–these days it seems half of the surfers he has met across the shore have boards designed by the Chinese shaper.

“Hyung,” Mingyu addresses, preventing Wonwoo from leaving, “if I drive you with Shua-hyung’s car, you won’t be late and can stay a little longer.” He reasons quietly.

Wonwoo seems to freeze and so he speaks, “first day of swell, remember, Mingyu-yah? You’d really ditch it to drive me to work?” He asks, as if Mingyu has offered him a kidney and he has to remind the boy all the downsides of living with only one left when he could as well keep the two. It’s not that deep but Wonwoo definitely make it sound like it. “You don’t have to.”

Wonwoo is right, he isn't obligated to do it. Actually, the tall boy wants to join his friends right now, but Joshua has said they would still have three days of swell ahead, so there’s no need to rush. Besides, being at the beach in Wonwoo’s presence sounds better to his ears than having no Wonwoo at all.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll find a wave, I’ll drive you and be back in forty.”

Wonwoo nods robotically after taking a moment to ponder his options. A satisfied smile plays on Mingyu’s lips and he stands on his feet immediately and jogs toward the water, not bothering to find out if Wonwoo’s following him.

“Last to catch a wave pays for whatever we’re having later.” Mingyu proposes loud enough for the other to hear, but Wonwoo snorts right behind him, closer than he imagined he would have gotten without being noticed. Wonwoo moves like a cat, not announcing when he is near. When you notice, he is already too close. When you notice, he’s the only thing you’ll be thinking about during your day.

“It’s on!” A serene Wonwoo directs a genuine smile at him over his bony, tan shoulder, already wading past the whitewater and to the back.

Mingyu and Wonwoo are the firsts to spot a subtle change in the water and they don’t waste time to lay belly down and squeeze on a gap between Soonyoung and Jeonghan’s boards before the two even have the chance of pausing their convo and acknowledge the incoming set. The bouncy water hits Mingyu’s arms when he dips them underwater and pads in rapid succession, fingers pressed on one another so tight that they seem glued, increasing his speed.

Wonwoo shouts besides him that he saw it first, but Mingyu is only capable of offering a chuckle meanwhile he continues to paddle up to ride a wave that seems to have his name written on it.

 

* * *

 

Mingyu has never seen someone look so intimidatingly handsome as Wonwoo does as he takes a precious moment to choose what he’s ordering, even though they visit the shop every other week and he goes for the same obvious option, which is fries coated with an unhealthy amount of grease.

Wonwoo’s lips carry this distinct kind of sweetness that coats his words every time he wraps his lips around them in a careful way, asking his third question on a roll to the young woman behind the counter, who shot an amicable and familiar smile to them the moment they walked inside her little shop through the royal blue swing doors.

It’s a small concern of his the fact he doesn’t get to kiss these lips more often, the intervals between opportunities being too long for his liking. Mingyu has been tucked to Wonwoo’s side most weekends and occasions in the past months since their group of friends seemed to have converged into one after so many years of visiting the exact same beaches and places across the southern coast, but crossing the boundaries they had silently agreed on during a blurred night fuelled with champagne _borrowed_ from the Yacht Club kitchen and Seokmin’s cupcakes – the ones which softness’ secret hides in the addition of cornstarch to the mixture – is definitely something he thinks about a lot.

Mingyu wants to kiss him every day, all day long if possible. Sometimes, he’d rather kiss him than have sex at all, but it never happens. Their reality is being somewhat friends when they’re around the others and making out until they’re naked and by themselves in the dense atmosphere of Mingyu’s bedroom. Which, okay, had not been a big deal for him in the beginning, once he believed his interest on Wonwoo would wane and fade out eventually. But now it’s not enough. He wants something else and shit. He wants to slap himself and gather courage to tell Wonwoo their making out sessions don’t always need to result in them, well, fucking each other’s brains out, because he’d pretty much enjoy being Wonwoo’s significant other instead of his fuck buddy.

Mingyu’s is aware he’s at fault too. When it comes to Wonwoo and everything else to do with him, the former lacks persistence. Wonwoo turns him on like no else and although Mingyu wants more than sex from him, it’s not like he can’t deny being intimate with the boy he wants — if his lips are sweet wrapped on words, they can also be sinful wrapped around skin, working on a path of marks down Mingyu’s body that always blossom the same purple shade of geraniums in the following morning.

“Shit!” Mingyu exclaims swirling his body in one-eight to avoid bumping on a car parked down a corner in the avenue. He is barely able to dodge it, carrying the car’s rear view mirror with him due to the speed of his sudden turn.

Mingyu jams his foot down trying the chaotic path he follows, but the speed only helps him to be thrown off the board and onto the ground.

The mirror bounces several times on the black asphalt and breaks into a hundred little pieces, almost causing Wonwoo to trip over it and fall too. He dodges both the rearview and Mingyu’s deck by following a lawless zigzag pattern, and jumps off his board, even jogging a little forward until he can slow down.

Wonwoo bends over his own body, hands on his knees, to breathe and try to understand what has just happened to Mingyu. They both giggle in between pants after catching up their breaths, finding motives to laugh. “What was that?” Wonwoo starts, wqry eyes landing on a suddenly spent Mingyu, “you almost knocked me down too, _babe_.”

Mingyu blinks repeatedly, heart racing inside his ribcage, as soon as he hears the nickname that happens to escape Wonwoo’s soft lips. The boy makes everything sweeter, indeed.

Wonwoo blinks too, playful gleam faltering a little. Mingyu doesn’t want that, him getting worried, minching on his perfect magenta lips. “You ok? What were you thinking that got you so distracted?”

“You… Us…” He blurts. Instead of pressing a more detailed explanation out the younger, Wonwoo snorts and jumps up on his feet again.

“Thought you were having a stroke or something. Way to make me worried, Mingyu.” He stretches his hand to the one sitting, who grabs it with immediately, and helps him on his feet. Wonwoo examines the path of destruction that an always clumsy Mingyu has left behind. A thick drop of water falls on Mingyu’s black hair and he looks up to the branches of a still young Hornbeam tree swinging side to side at wind’s mercy. “We should get going. Fixing a foreign car is beyond our budgets.”

Wonwoo comments with a helpless smile.

Mingyu looks down at him, Wonwoo’s stare already holding his, anticipating his response. He has so much to say but somehow, it doesn’t feel like the proper moment to do so. So he lets it slide, again and agrees, “we should.”

After escaping from the scene with their skateboards under their arms, they shelter from the rain beneath the marquee of the studio where Soonyoung is a dance teacher. On the opposite side, peeking from a dark alley, Mingyu can see a spray painted wall with the seasonal saying _“Outsiders, go away”_ that often appears on the streets on summer, when the Island receives an entire new set of restless and deafening tourists who seem to be found everywhere, interrupting the silence and flooding with new faces all the spaces where the residents usually can get some piece of mind.

“Wonwoo-yah,” Mingyu starts, eyes on the wall and meaning to ask if Wonwoo also has this feeling that their friends, a bunch of boys overprotective of the island culture, have something to do with it. Hansol and Minghao are the safest bet, even though none of them had actually born in the island. They’re always trying to keep it local.

“Hey, brat,” Wonwoo pinches his shoulder and Mingyu shrieks in moderate pain, turning around to face his torturer. Wonwoo has his back pressed against the building’s creamy colored wall, sweater paws moving from Mingyu’s body to hug his own whilst it trembles subtly, due to the dampness of his clothes. “What do you think you’re doing? It’s hyung for you!”

Mingyu snorts, eyes wandering over Wonwoo’s lithe body and handsome face, meanwhile the elder’s eyes cast down to his feet only for a moment, lashes touching the insides of his specs’ lenses and a few strands of hair almost reaching his nose from how heavy they have become after the rain thickened. Since their first encounter, his hair has changed from black to a shade of brown that reminds him of cognac, a liquor Mingyu has never tasted but plans to one day.

Noticing Mingyu’s silence, Wonwoo looks up, their gazes meeting one more time. The younger lifts his free hand and places it on the wall, besides Wonwoo’s face, blanketing him so he can’t escape.

“What’s wrong? Why you went quiet all of a sudden?” Asks the one with the most appealing pirate smile the world is yet to see. Wonwoo’s smile makes Mingyu want to go down on his knees and agree with any crazy idea he’d come up with.

Mingyu licks his lips as a warning. If Wonwoo knows him at all, he is aware they’ll start to talk about sex now.

“I was only thinking… We have sex every week… Sometimes several times a week… Does it even matter if we cut the honorifics?”

For a brief second he sees the surprise due to the sudden change of subject, but it soon vanishes, being replaced by a defiant look coming from Wonwoo’s feline eyes, a glint of the streetlights reflecting on his specs. Wonwoo has always loved their playful banter, Mingyu knows it.

“What does this have to do with anything?” He retorts with a fierceness that is inherent to him. Wonwoo is tenacious, consistent and confident. Mingyu can only feel like this around him when they’re talking about or having sex. The older might be shorter and less built, but he’s capable of frightening Mingyu to an extent. “Girls call their boyfriends oppa too.”

“But that's because they think it’s cute calling their boyfriends oppa…” Mingyu whines tilting his head to the side, façade threatening to fall at any moment, missing the way Wonwoo definitely compared their confuse relationship to an established one.

“But what if I like being called hyung? What if I think it’s cute too? You never asked!”

“You don’t, it doesn’t even suit you, does it? I mean, if you had told me you think it’s hot, it would have been kinda odd but understandable, because you can be really kinky sometimes–“

Wonwoo defends himself from Mingyu’s antics with a strong shove on his chest that causes the other male to stumble backwards. “Cut the teasing. It’s funnier when it’s the other way around anyways.”

Mingyu scratches the nape of his neck and moves closer to Wonwoo again. He leans in to brush his lips over the shell of his ear, “ _you love it._ ” He teases lazily, making sure his words sound clear.

The younger jolts away again before Wonwoo can react or even shove him again, because the boy can be skinnier but his hand is heavier. They remain a meter apart, Mingyu looking up to the dark sky waiting the rain shower to wither away. Albeit they had seen a few people running from the rain earlier, now the streets are empty and there are at least a dozen puddles on the pavement already.

“Yah. Don’t even think about getting yourself wet.” Wonwoo says approaching him and dropping his eyes to Mingyu’s elbow, “your arm is bleeding.”

Mingyu lowers his head too, confused, and checks the scratched spot with a bit of fresh blood on it. He is about to touch the new wound added to his already beaten up skin, but Wonwoo holds his wrist inside his hand to stop him. “We should take care of it, kiddo.” He suggests with a playful smirk.

Mingyu sighs and scrunches up his nose, not considering the situation as amusing as Wonwoo seems to. “Stop babying me…” He pleads, exhausted.

Insecurity has always been a concern in their relationship. Mingyu attributes to his age one of the possible reasons why Wonwoo has never took him seriously or at least considered him as a potential love interest. To his hesitant mind, Wonwoo would always consider him a kid as he does to half of their younger friends, Chan especially.

“Soon you’ll be saying you’ll kiss my booboo better and all that.” Mingyu discloses with a frown, fighting back the pout that threatens to purse his lips, and takes Wonwoo’s specs from his face with ease, trying to busy himself.

“I'm not babying you, I swear.” Wonwoo retorts, watching Mingyu dry the small drops of water that managed to hit his lenses earlier. Mingyu’s grey shirt travels up, past the waistband of the khaki joggers he is wearing tonight, ‘till a strip of the golden skin of his flat stomach is showing. “It’s not like you’re half my age, Mingyu. Chill.”

Mingyu doesn’t answer, so instead of insisting, Wonwoo moves closer to him and places his arms around his neck. This catches Mingyu off guard and has him raising his eyes to stare at the other male straightaway. He doesn’t return the specs just yet though. They’re dry, clean and looking nice again by now, but he needs something else to hold onto in order to not melt and becoming a gooey pool right there on the sidewalk, where he is in public and facing the reason of his sudden softness, in the first place. When Wonwoo gets all touchy like this, Mingyu swears he can go crazy only looking at him.

“That’s why you haven’t called me hyung all night?” Wonwoo prompts, voice all docile and shit, and Mingyu leans over so the boy can move backwards and have his back flushed against the wall again. Mingyu feels safer knowing Wonwoo can’t escape when he is being blanketed by his body, the other letting down his defenses like he also feels safer in Mingyu’s embrace. From this distance, Mingyu can see that Wonwoo’s skin is peeling a little at the nose and he’s sucking in a deep breath. “How mature of you!” He argues, but his words don’t carry weight.

Wonwoo’s right hand drips like melted butter over the exposed skin of Mingyu’s neck and stops there, fingertips sheltering beneath the fabric of his collar and thumb caressing his jawline in slow circular movements. Mingyu doesn’t get it–how someone whose lips are so sinful is also able of owning hands as holy as his?

The shorter goes up, on the tip of his toes after a couple seconds and presses a full, warm kiss on Mingyu’s lips. They have done this (whatever this is) for eight months now, but calm and delicate kisses similar to this are offensively limited and that’s too bad. But on the other hand, they carry in them an intrinsic uniqueness that puts all their hushed, tongue fucking kisses to shame.

Mingyu parts his lips to let Wonwoo’s tongue slip inside the same moment the former allows his free hand to slide to the small of the latter’s back. They don’t have much time; akin to the storms common of summertime, all of this will come to an end soon.

 

(They don’t have sex later in the night.)

 

 

 

_The 15th & 16th_

 

On Thursday morning, Seungcheol texts Mingyu as well as everybody else everybody else to warn them he visited the beach and the water has gone flat earlier.

As a reflex of the sudden event, the bungalow gets crowded with the addition of seven other friends and Mingyu ends up scheming in advance in which gap he can fit his feet to reach the opposite side of his own living room without stepping on anybody’s limbs, guitar picks, discarded shirts and any joystick wires, like his very own life size minesweeper game – Hansol convinces Minghao to bleach their hairs and they do, because they figure they’ll be bored out of their minds without the prospect of surfing on their day off; the chords of Jihoon and Joshua’s guitars start to finally resemble a song Mingyu’s brain can almost remember the lyrics of and he is thankful no one brings weed because he’s not in the mood to endure a whole afternoon of a high Soonyoung educating them on Chinese espionage (“The Chinese spies. They’re everywhere, using the _World Wide Web_ ," he would say, crooking his fingers in the air twice for emphasis, “as their vehicle of vigilance”, and later apologize to Junhui and Minghao, telling they’re cool and loyal).  
Hiding in the kitchen and with his mind partially hooked to the count of how many additional portions of food he is supposed to cook, but also wondering why the bungalow has become the hideaway to his sneaky friends on a rainy day, Mingyu almost forgets about Wonwoo’s absence.

Almost.

It probably means nothing, after all.

 

* * *

 

**From: Wonu-hyung  
Sent: 23:21**

Mingoo,, can I come over??

 

**From: Mingyu-yah  
Sent: 23:23**

Now? I mean sure lmk when ur near

 

**From: Wonu-hyung  
Sent: 23:25**

I'm outside

 

**From: Mingyu-yah  
Sent: 23:25**

Shit, gimme two

 

 

When the front door is pulled open and reveals Mingyu and Wonwoo standing on opposite sides of it, the youngest notices the huge difference between the clothes in which they’re dressed. Mingyu’s on a black shirt and grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair a mess, body pleading to be taken to bed; Wonwoo seems to have spent the night out, not dressed in a suit like he did on Tuesday, but definitely on his nice clothes, hair styled up but mussed by the drizzle, fingertips grazing over the soft skin of his bottom lip and glossy, intoxicated eyes.

Mingyu is curious to discover what he is doing on his porch, but instead of asking, he gives a step to the side inviting Wonwoo inside, closes the door and returns to the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he does come back, Wonwoo is standing close to the doors of his wardrobe, getting rid of his red and black plain shirt, balancing indifference and calm beautifully.

Although he remains clueless to the reason behind of Wonwoo’s visit to the bungalow, Mingyu drinks the casualness of it all. As he sinks down on the edge of his bed, he doesn’t allow his eyes to stop watching Wonwoo slip off his clothes in the gentle darkness that swallows his bedroom.

“Won’t try to fuck you.” Wonwoo says, fingers moving down his slender body, ready to open the fly of his jeans. “No fucking when one or both of us are had something to drink, that’s your rule, right?”

“Your mouth gets twice as dirty when you’re drunk, hyung.”

He comments, still.oblivious to where this unexpected visit will take them.

“No making love–“ He fixes it but his words only cause Mingyu to huff out a bitter laugh. Making love–that’s a huge stretch, far from the truth even.

“There’s no need to bother. Stick to it. I think ‘fucking’ is the right word to describe what we’ve been doing.”

Unbothered with the younger’s bitterness, Wonwoo gestures to the bed, “hey, can I…?” and Mingyu nods, allowing him to take a seat by his side. His pants are open but he’s still dressed with it and when their stares cross under the lack of lights in the room, Mingyu is still able to spot the frown on the other male’s soft face. He wants to ease his confused expression, wants to run his thumb in the middle of his furrowed brows and tell him to smile a little because he fucking glows when he does.

He isn’t sure if reaching out to touch Wonwoo’s face would be considered crossing a line. Granted, everything’s a blur in their relationship. The lines have never been officially drawn or mentioned. With Wonwoo, he never knows.

“You don’t believe in me, do you? I'm not trying to sex you up. Why would you even assume that, uh?”

“Because...” Mingyu starts and shrugs in despair. “I don't know. That's the only thing we seem to do anytime we’re alone. I know we hang out sometimes but I figured you wanted to kill the boredom, nothing else. We don't have much to talk about, do we? Are we even friends of some sorts?”

“Do you want to be friends though? I mean, be honest… if you want to stop—if I'm being too needy just tell me.” Wonwoo’s voice sound anxious as he mumbles words that Mingyu never meant to hear coming out of his mouth. Wonwoo’s never needy; he’s chill and cool and can handle the entire no strings attached deal better than Mingyu ever could.

Wonwoo has never lost grip of the situation they find themselves in at the moment. He has been in control since the beginning. Mingyu’s the only one who’ll end up getting burned. And yet, he can’t stop.

“You're not being needy. I'm the neediest between us… I don't really know where we stand so it's not like I can answer if I want to be friends… or if we have always been.” Mingyu answers and sighs in sequence, body shivering in dread. He bends forward and places his elbows on his legs, then his face on his spread hands.

After a moment, Wonwoo speaks again, “is it because I kissed you? We never kiss when we're not having sex because I thought you wanted to keep it casual and low key,” Mingyu shakes his head with resilience, but Wonwoo talks in a fast pace, not even noticing, “but then I felt like doing it because you were being difficult and I wanted to fix it–no, I mean,” he slurs a bit and stretches a hand to touch Mingyu, but his arm drops before his fingertips are even able to graze over the skin. “We were there in the rain and I wanted to know how it felt kissing you without the kiss leading to sex for once, y’know? I can stop if you want to. We can stop, it’s…” the older pauses and lets out a heavy and desolated sigh, “it’s whatever.”

Mingyu considers his words for a moment, then says, “I'm not asking you to stop with the kisses or the sex. I'm only speaking my mind. I'm just being a coward and asking you things I won't have the guts to when you're sober. Sometimes you're so difficult to read, you leave me in the dark. Why are you even here? If not for sex, why would you come?” Mingyu straightens his body and searches for Wonwoo’s face in the dark.

The only source of light inside the bedroom comes from the streetlights on the sidewalk. Usually the moon dances over Mingyu’s bed when Wonwoo spends the night, giving the former a lame and corny little push, but tonight, it seems to have hidden behind the thick clouds in the night sky and left him to deal with his issues by himself. It’s not much. Mingyu can barely see Wonwoo, but still feels the heat radiating from his skin as he accompanies the uncomfortable shift of his shadow with his eyes.

“I don't know. One second I was out with Junhui and Jihoon and the next I noticed that instead of going home I was on my way here. I don't know why… I just kinda told your address to the taxi driver.”

Mingyu jolts and gets up on his bare feet. He didn’t even had enough time to try and get at least presentable after receiving Wonwoo’s text saying he was outside. He distances himself from the mattress and only then glances to the shortest male again. Standing in the middle of the small bedroom he has a better view. Wonwoo looks tiny and in need of protection, bending over his own figure.

“It's ok, hyung. I'm not asking you to leave or anything, I wouldn't do this to you. I just don't get it, so I…” Mingyu finally says, hands slipping inside the pockets of his sweatpants, fingertips touching the smooth edges of his phone. He’s trying not to be a total dick about it because Wonwoo doesn't deserve it at all, but he can’t keep his mouth shut when Wonwoo seems to be so willing to answer his questions. “Uh, nevermind. Nevermind.”

Wonwoo nods, understanding, and pulls his knees in, hugging them tight against his naked chest. “Can I stay then? Can I sleep over? My head is killing me and I can't, like, think straight, but I love the smell of your bed sheets, they always smell like the sea and _Mingyu_ at the same time and every morning I leave your bed I keep asking myself for hours straight how this can be possible.” He confesses and allows his body to fall on the bed, back hitting the mattress. He cranes his head to the side and breathes the supposed scent, earning a low whine from Mingyu, who is desperate to have his feelings reciprocated, fidgety for the sole reason of Wonwoo looking so comfortable on his bed even when they’re obviously not having sex.

“Ah hyung, don't say these things.” Mingyu averts his eyes for a moment and his fingers scratch his thigh from inside the pockets. “Just–well, you can stay in my bed and I'll have the couch.”

Wonwoo balances the weight of his body on his elbows and lifts his body a little to face Mingyu, even though he can’t see a thing. “No. Why? We fit here, always have. Still do, right?” He asks, smooth and naïve.

Mingyu ponders, eyes scanning his bed. His brain niggles at him for even considering it, but it’s getting late and his body carries him two steps forward, because Mingyu can definitely use some sleep now on his cozy bed after a day particularly busy at the Yacht Club.

“I guess. I can stay if that makes you feel better.”

It won't make _him_ feel better though. Jeon Wonwoo’s smell will be imprinted, burned on his sheets in the morning and waking up without him by his side will send Mingyu straight to his grave. But if it helps Wonwoo to fall asleep, it’s the right thing to do.

He joins Wonwoo on the bed and they crawl under Mingyu’s sheets and blue duvet – one he hasn’t quite grown used to since his green one ended up being buried in the backyard along with Soonyoung’s stupid surfboard, but since the happening, he notices he has never felt so comfortable on his own bed as he feels tonight –, first meaning to remain as far away from him as his mattress allows him to, but soon noticing Wonwoo snuggling closer, head moving to rest on Mingyu’s shoulder.

“Can I hug you?” Wonwoo whispers with his ear glued to Mingyu’s skin. It’s warm, so warm beneath the duvet when Mingyu’s not alone in his bed.

Everything’s still blurry and there’s nothing else Mingyu wants more now than feeling Wonwoo’s body on him in a way he never had a chance to feel before, but the question only serves to cracks his heart a little bit more. Wonwoo has touched him in places no one else has; Wonwoo has managed to crawl under his skin in record time and make a home out of his heart. And still, he feels the need of asking for permission to give him something as simple as a hug.

Their hugs and kisses carry more weight than their sex; they walk on eggshells when they aren’t fucking; it feels easier to question Wonwoo how much he wants him when they’re panting and their bodies moving frantically than when they’re by themselves, discussing nothing in particular. When they’re having sex, every pretense falls, but yet, their concept of intimacy is all over the place.

Mingyu sighs and his chest rise and fall in slow succession. “Whatever you feel like, hyung.” He says, giving in.

 

**From: Moon-hyung  
Sent: 00:05**

Hey my boy, have you heard from Wonwoo in the last hour by any chance?

 

**From: Tall  
Sent: 00:06**

You lost him?

 

**From: Moon-hyung  
Sent: 00:06**

Maybeee~~~

 

**From: Tall  
Sent: 00:06**

Wow what a jerk. He's here actually

 

**From: Moon-hyung  
Sent: 00:07**

Oh thank god, he wouldn't stop talking bout you and then he said he needed to go home but vanished when I went to look for jihoon so we could take him

 

**From: Tall  
Sent: 00:07**

Talk about me? Whats going on 2nite? I’m confused

 

**From: Moon-hyung  
Sent: 00:09**

You should ask him, it's not my place to tell…. Is he alright though? Should I pick him up?

 

**From: Tall  
Sent: 00:09**

He's alright… plastered as you already know... I can handle him but don't you think he'll be pissed for waking up in my bed on his birthday?

 

**From: Moon-hyung  
Sent: 00:10**

Oh that's a good joke haha. Just let me know if you need anything. Take care of my best friend, he’s not much but is the only one soonyoung and I got. See you soon racoon ～(^з^)-♡

 

 

 

 

_The 17th_

 

In the morning, before Mingyu’s even able to pry his eyes open, he already knows this is going to be one of those days in which he will spend buried under the covers, hiding and regretting the previous night immensely. He has revealed too much and pressed Wonwoo into discussing with him their situation. To top it off and wrap the disastrous night with a golden bow, Wonwoo had spend the night snuggling to Mingyu, and although he refuses to continue reminiscing the sensation of having the other male so close to his body, he can’t help but wish the night had lasted longer. The first rays of morning dance over his closed eyelids and it's so bright already, the room apparently on flames or have at least morphed into the meeting place for all the stars in the universe. He would rather remain in the darkness of the night instead of having to deal with a new day.

He blames it in the way Wonwoo’s soothing breath greet his ears in waves causing chaos inside his skull, the way the mattress dips under the addition of the weight of a new body joining him, the way his name is playfully whispered like it’s the funniest joke that has ever been told in the humankind's history.

Still in partial sleepy haze, Mingyu wants to mumble something too. It can either be “please leave” or “come here”, he doesn’t know yet, but he’ll decide which words will slip first once he parts his lips.

Wonwoo is faster though. He crawls beneath the sheet and raises them above their heads, placing his limbs on each possible gap left by the weird angles in which Mingyu's limbs are placed on the mattress. For some odd reason, right now the two males seem to fit like pieces of the same puzzle–Wonwoo balances the lightweight of his body on his right knee, fitting it with perfection between Mingyu’s parted legs, his hands on each side of the younger's head.

Wonwoo raises his own body up like he is doing push-ups, and this is enough for Mingyu to decide to open his eyes. His heart aches at the sight; his heart aches when he notices that Wonwoo is really still hanging around the bungalow like it’s not unusual at all, like he’s been here the whole time, having sex and spending the night and waking Mingyu up in the morning so they can chat more. But this is rare. Wonwoo’s usually gone when the morning comes–sometimes without saying goodbye to a passed out Mingyu and often before they have breakfast, that’s the rule. Mingyu has longer convinced himself that the darkness suits Wonwoo better anyways and parting with these thoughts would be stressful and potentially hurt him in the end, so… He doesn't, even though he’d love to.

“Good morning.” Wonwoo greets and his sweet lips curve upwards, showing a genuine smile.

The first time Mingyu saw Wonwoo was on a similar sunny morning. At the beach, while he himself did kick-ups with a volley ball in the company of Minghao and Hansol. Meanwhile, a still unfamiliar Wonwoo returned from the sea and sat a few meters away from the group, hunching over his board, focused on improving the adherence of the surface whilst rubbing another layer of wax all across the deck.

His skin glowed, his dark hair dripped and his smile was huge while joking around with both Jeonghan and Junhui. Mingyu thought about him for hours after seeing his carefree nature–that boy was as hot as the sunbeams that slanted Mingyu’s skin that morning at the beach.

“I didn't mean to wake you up yet but I’ve been thinking about making coffee for us, so maybe you would want to join me in the kitchen?”

Harboring under the sheets, Mingyu can’t see anything but the subtle reflexes of the sun inside the room, touching the walls and washing the room with a subtle shade of yellow. All he can see is Wonwoo on top of him, watching his face with indecipherable eyes, not giving away any hint of what’s going on in his head at the moment. All Mingyu can feel is the caress provided by the boy’s thumb on the tip of his left ear, but he’s not sure if it’s whether intentional or Wonwoo’s haven’t even noticed what he’s doing.

Either way, the warmth and softness of Wonwoo’s touch makes Mingyu feel all funny inside.

“You didn't have to.” Mingyu answers with a constricted stomach, afraid the minimum shift of his body might scare away this boy who invaded his life and knocked him down faster than a truck out of control on a slope would. “It's your birthday, you’re not supposed to be making things for me.”

“It's okay. I woke up earlier than usual because I guess I'm not used to actually sleeping in your bed. Hung around for awhile, then Hao and Seok woke up too and we chatted for a while but they bolted to the beach. Minghao bleached his hair. I saw him on Wednesday, when did this happen?”

“Hum, yeah, he did it on Thursday. Hansol did it too. Did they wish you a happy birthday at least, hyung?”

“Sure. Think my cheek is still wet from Seokmin’s kiss.” He discloses and lowers his head enough to wipe his supposed sticky cheek on Mingyu’s shoulder.

Wonwoo smiles wide with perfect aligned teeth when Mingyu groans and calls him gross, but there’s a twist to it. His eyes are lit in soft interest, something that haven’t been the first time they had crossed eyes in the morning but is definitely there now. Wonwoo’s eyes carry this mischievousness that amazes Mingyu in alarming levels.

Mingyu pushes his body up on his elbows and gives the other a peck, feeling bold, addicted and hungry for his lips. Wonwoo doesn't let him pull away, but leans closer to prolong their kiss instead, not getting enough of it just yet. It’s overwhelming how Mingyu gets a taste of a third genre of kisses that seems to have been hid somewhere he doesn’t have access to yet–it’s not tender, but definitely pleasing, heavy with ulterior motives and yet successfully slow paced.

This particular kiss has this raw intensity that screams “sex” like their regular kisses, but there’s something fresh in it, which makes Mingyu’s pulse race in anticipation.

This is something he has always craved, morning sex that is, to wake up with Wonwoo at arm’s reach and willing like he is now. It’s an opportunity he isn't sure he’ll have again so he might as well make good use of it. There’s so much to say and talk about, but Mingyu doesn't know how yet. When they have sex, it's like his body is saying all the words his lips can't, after all. It's easier this way.

Wonwoo changes his position and straddles Mingyu’s body, soon lowering himself to continue kissing him. Mingyu pull him closer with a firm hand on the nape of his neck, determined to not let him go, but when Wonwoo grinds down experimentally on his crotch, the younger swears on his mouth and feels Wonwoo’s lips curl upwards in victory. Mingyu wants to call him a teaser, but he grinds down again and the accusation slips from his mind as if it was never meant to stay there in the first place.

His phone announces a new message inside the pockets of his sweatpants, exactly at the spot Wonwoo presses it against his body with his knees. Then a second new message and a third too–it’s all it takes for the older to slip a hand inside Mingyu’s pockets and drop the device somewhere where it won’t be crushed by the weight of their bodies.

“Fucking cockblockers,” he complains, voice raspy and hushed. Mingyu is so is so gone for him.

Mingyu spins them around without missing a heartbeat, hands now gripping possessively to Wonwoo’s hips, pinning him down so he can attack him with kisses him again. It’s his time to smirk midst kiss when Wonwoo moans because Mingyu has just placed his knee between the former legs, shoving them apart to accommodate him better.

His hands travel up, grabbing the hem of Wonwoo’s undershirt and pushing them up his head until the piece of clothing is tossed somewhere by the feet of the bed and the skin of Wonwoo’s flat stomach is on full display. Mingyu can’t help but graze his fingertips across each inch of his flesh as Wonwoo melts so deliciously at every touch of his, responding exactly how the male on top expects him to. He caresses his stomach, chest and nipples, then slows down the pace in which he sucks Wonwoo’s tongue, taking his time to swallow his hisses, and slides the same hand down again, index finger hooking on the waistband of Wonwoo’s jeans.

Mingyu pops the single button open and pulls the zipper down, careful and steady as usual. Wonwoo wiggles his hips, trying to get rid of it already, but Mingyu warns him to keep still, forbidding him from rushing things up. In sequence, he dips his head down again and presses a brief kiss on Wonwoo’s jawline to soothe him. Wonwoo’s usual rush turns Mingyu on, however, he can’t let him dictate how fast or slow they’re supposed to go every time, can he?

Mingyu kneels on his bed, bedsheet sliding over his back and finally allowing the brightness of the room to engulf them. He yanks Wonwoo’s jeans off with ease, leaving him only on his black boxers, then gets up and stands by the feet of it, his own pressing down the blue duvet bundled on the floor, not bothering to keep his boxers on, but pulling all off at once instead.

Discarding his shirt on the floor, all the bruises that at some point of his life morphed into the tiny, nearly undetectable scars that adorn his torso are now revealed. The product of all the times he fell from his skateboard and had the pavement scratching his skin or from being wiped out of a wave are everywhere in his body – on his shoulders, stomach, ribs, hands, elbows and knees, like business cards he carries around in order to present his lifestyle to those unaware.

And it’s so sweet how Wonwoo moves on the bed and sits on the edge — his own small bruises and purples showing, matching Mingyu’s as a memento of how alike they are and this never ceases to amaze him —, and begins to kiss a trail of tenderness over his stomach, his waist, patches of skin that Mingyu doesn’t even know anymore when he gives in for a moment and allows his head to be tossed backwards, enjoying it.

“I like everything about you. Your body, your moans, your lips, your kisses, your smile. The way you fuck my brains out.” Wonwoo discloses so low and secretive that Mingyu fears Wonwoo’s has meant it to himself and he is eavesdropping on his privacy.

Mingyu wonders if every morning sex is like this. Do people always act more loving and touchy in the morning when there’s such light and warmth? Or is it the weight of Wonwoo turning twenty-two, the birthday sex situation perhaps? Do people become more thankful on their birthday thus they fuck like they adore their partners to death?

The loss of Wonwoo’s lips snaps Mingyu out of his semi-trance. When he looks down again, Wonwoo’s already moving back to where Mingyu had told him to stay.

Mingyu follows suit, kneeling on bed and too caught up in fumbling his left hand inside the top drawer of his nightstand in search of the lube bottle and a condom. Meanwhile, Wonwoo wiggles off of his boxers beneath him, releasing his cock from its confines and finally getting naked from the waist down. Their dicks look very alike considering how hard the both of them are.

“Mingyu?”

“Yeah?” Mingyu dives down to press yet another brief kiss, this time on his lips.

Wonwoo looks shy all of a sudden, his face blushing, so Mingyu observes and waits. He waits with the patience he reserves for Wonwoo only, the same patience that resides deep inside when something tells him that Wonwoo will break sooner or later and he’ll be worthy of everything that comes his way, but only if he waits.

“Don’t–No condom.” Wonwoo says with caution, maybe a little tad of hesitation. Mingyu blinks a couple times, assimilating the words. “I haven’t slept with anybody else besides you since our first night.” Mingyu’s heart melts at that. Their _first night_ , Wonwoo says, and it sounds so beautiful and loving in his deep, low voice.

“Really?” The words slip out of his lips so fast he can swear someone else said it. This is exactly what he meant when he told Wonwoo he is the neediest between the two of them on the previous night. Any and every time Wonwoo hints this is more than sex, Mingyu gets greedy, desperate to hear about it for hours and hours.

“I swear. Wouldn’t lie to you. I’ve never lied to you.” The boy responds, definitely not in the same page as him. Mingyu isn’t worried about the lack of a condom between their skins, but rather surprised he’s the only one in Wonwoo’s life at the moment. However, Mingyu doesn’t want to overthink it, not now. “Besides, it’s my birthday, for fucks sake. Wanna feel you.” He finishes with a breathless laugh.

Mingyu nods, acknowledging it and decides to confess too, “I haven’t slept with anybody else as well. And sure, no condom. Whatever you want, hyung.”

In the following minutes, Mingyu’s inserting one, and then two and three lube coated fingers inside of Wonwoo and swallowing his moans, familiar with how his kisses always soothe and relief Wonwoo out of possible discomforts whenever he is being prepared. Wonwoo craves his lips like it’s painful to keep away from them and the fact alone sends Mingyu into an inebriating trance.

The taller pulls his fingers out and his entire body away to pump himself a couple times, also in need of preparation. Wonwoo pants in frustration and doesn’t stop until Mingyu’s on him again, their bodies attached as the younger blankets him, making the room stuffy with loud wisps of breath, chests rising in identical rhythm.

And then he's inside, adjusting Wonwoo’s legs around his waist as he sinks in his heat, inch per inch, pushing aside his urge to pound on him in favor of Wonwoo’s needs. He starts to thrust gently. They have been doing this for too long; Mingyu is familiar with Wonwoo’s timing.

Wonwoo’s lips escape from his when the older throws his head back and allows it to hit the fluffy pillow. His body writhes and he chokes on moans or maybe words, unable to articulate a proper sentence, and he grips tight at Mingyu’s arm.

Mingyu waits before increasing his rhythm, but then starts to circle his hips as slowly as he can, setting the pace himself, at least while Wonwoo is absorbed in his own ecstasy. He looks beautiful from this perspective–scratch that, he looks stunning from every possible perspective, he looks outta this world and way too good for Mingyu. His pale skin is devilish when crimson creeps on his cheeks, earlobes, neck, chest and the tip of his cock when Mingyu runs a teasing thumb at the slit, just because he can.

He nibbles at Wonwoo’s neck and ear, and then traps his bottom lip between his teeth trying to draw a reaction, anything, from Wonwoo. Mingyu has been familiar with the discretion Wonwoo sports on bed for eight months, but Mingyu’s a cocky asshole who loves conquering his moans, his pleas and every other sound coming from him. In Mingyu’s point of view, they’re all rewards.

Mingyu finally hears Wonwoo’s voice a while after. This time it comes in the shape of a low, broken and needy plea, Mingyu’s second favorite sound. “I want… More, Mingyu-yah. I want you.” Wonwoo’s voice sounds hot and wrecked already, but Mingyu is more than happy to oblige.

Fuck being gentle.

The change in their pace makes Wonwoo gasp for air, shivers running down his spine, and his head suddenly hitting the headboard.

“Don’t stop,” he demands weakly before Mingyu can even reach his head to caress it and apologize. “I’m good. Just–go on.” Wonwoo cranes his neck to the side, showing Mingyu exactly what he wants and Mingyu dives towards his skin on free fall, biting it until he can almost draw blood. “I’m yours, Mingyu.”

And this is new, but nonetheless incredible.

“You have no idea what you do to me, hyung.” He groans against Wonwoo’s neck, pushing fully inside his body thrust after thrust.

Wonwoo quivers again and moves a hand between their sweaty bodies, starting to seek his release as he pumps his erection, eyes closed and strands of hair starting to stick on his damp forehead. He looks great–he feels greater. It’s all too intense. Mingyu gets closer at each thrust, watching Wonwoo getting himself off with lips between his teeth only adds to the growing heat on his groin.

When Wonwoo start to let go and nearly arches his back off the mattress, Mingyu knows he’s on the edge–the older comes with a cry of Mingyu’s name, clenching around him and sending his brain straight to outer space. It’s the sexiest thing Mingyu has ever seen and heard. Every time they have sex he swears there’s no way he’ll see anything as beautiful as Wonwoo’s orgasming face, yet the following meeting always surprises him, bringing even better and breathtaking moments. Mingyu lets go of Wonwoo’s legs and dunks his head lower, capturing the older’s lips between his, moaning and driving inside of him even deeper although slower now, hand cupping Wonwoo’s jaw because he needs to touch him.

It takes several minutes for the both of them to come down from their afterglow, the two lying down with their backs pressed to the bedding, sheets hiding their bare bodies. Mingyu’s chest pitches up and down and his breath comes out in strangled huffs, but he glances to Wonwoo, sprawled by his side but in the exact same state as him. Mingyu is ecstatic, everything’s new and so, so good, but he holds back the smile that fights to break on his face for the sake of what’s left of his dignity.

They jump inside the shower after a while, Wonwoo being the responsible for turning the shower knob on as Mingyu watches him from a few steps away in the bungalow’s tiny bathroom and shower. Not being able to keep his hands off him, Mingyu pulls him closer with a soft grip on hips, and Wonwoo gives in fast, melting on his touch.

The more he gets from Wonwoo, more insatiable he feels. He looks hot and beautiful. He looks fresh and… Happy. It’s like Mingyu is seeing him in a new light only now.

Sex with Wonwoo is brilliant. Morning sex is brilliant. Birthday sex is, too, even though isn’t even his own birthday, so he can only imagine if that was the case, how blissed out he would feel.

He isn't close. Well, he isn't on the verge of orgasming again, but he is always technically close when he is having sex with Wonwoo.

It’s slow this time, no rush in the pace he drives his hips, erection disappearing in and out of Wonwoo, tongue licking a wet stripe of the cool exposed skin on the nape of his neck and collecting drops of the cold water that runs down the skin. They’re being lazy, he knows, but it feels good and not desperate at all. Honestly, all he wants is to keep doing this until they eventually break due to exhaustion. He wants to go for a third when they have recovered from this second round too–

You see, he isn’t close but that doesn't mean interruptions are welcomed.

It never becomes clear to Mingyu who does it, but the fact is someone slams the bathroom door open and although the glass shower stall is coated with water drops and harboring them from being busted in clear view, said person makes sure to let them know they have been caught in the act.

“Oh my god! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” Someone repeats in a pitch so high and desperate it masquerades their identity.

“Come on, hyung, I want to piss too.” That’s Chan for you.

“What is it? What the fuck is going on?” A third male shouts in exasperation.

“Mingyu and Wonwoo-hyung are fucking in the shower.”

There’s a brief moment of silence before they try to rush past the door all at the same time, slipping out in the same rush as they got inside. Mingyu gets a little surprised but he doesn’t mind; Wonwoo, on the other hand, gets red and then purple in embarrassment, but something in the way he slams his head on the white tiles repeatedly just tells Mingyu that he will survive if he only manages not to get himself a concussion.

The first to escape from the bathroom runs across the extension of the hallway, screaming that they saw them fucking on the shower, thus no one should get in there. It’s certainly implied, however, Soonyoung doesn’t seem fazed at all.

“It’s too bad you guys can’t piss through this, because I can.” His voice echoes in the bathroom. “Fellas, I want to piss so bad. I'm closing my eyes. Pretend I’m not here and just do your stuff.”

“Soonyoung, leave, please.” Wonwoo groans hiding his face on the tiles again, body about to go limp and drop to the floor.

“Hyung, what the hell! Get out already!” Mingyu demands on Wonwoo’s behalf.

Mingyu rests his head at the back of Wonwoo’s, nose caressing his hair, fingers petting his sides. It feels so good to be around him and inside him at the same time. “They’re so embarrassing.” He whispers, calmly closing his eyes.

“I second that.”

Soonyoung flushes the toilet, washes his hands and leaves as if nothing has happened, but Wonwoo confesses to Mingyu that this situation is carved in his mind as one of the most embarrassing moments of his life already.

“Highlight of my birthday, definitely.”

“I’ll go talk to them. Well, after we finish what we were doing.” He confides and Wonwoo laughs the most beautiful laughter Mingyu’s ear has heard leaving his lips.

Half an hour later, Mingyu puts fresh clothes on and leaves Wonwoo getting dressed in his room in order to go after the boys, as promised. He feels good in spite it all, and at first doesn’t even bothers to scold them for hotboxing Jihoon’s car at the bungalow driveway when he finds them on their new safe space.

The smoke filling the inside of the old Honda is so thick it blocks the view of who is inside and Mingyu has to fan it away from his face when the window rolls down, revealing Soonyoung's faded blue hair and toothy smile.

"What’s up? Since you were busy and the others are still on their way, we thought maybe we could as well put this bathtub of a car to good use." He informs gesturing the joints in their hands. If the neighbors see them, they'll call the cops, but what Mingyu is worried and curious about is the reason behind their abrupt arrival.

"What are you doing here?" Mingyu questions with a raised eyebrow, plopping his arms on the window.

"You ungrateful boy,” the male mocks, “we were compelled to it. We had the best intentions to surprise Wonwoo-yah on his birthday. We even brought him a cake."

Seokmin’s grimace comes in display there on the driver’s seat where Jihoon supposedly belongs. "Can we come inside now? The ice cream cake is melting and my fingers are all sticky." The three of them look down to the plastic container on Seokmin’s lap. It’s melting a little at the sides indeed, but Mingyu can still read a “Happy Birthday!” on the blue and white topping.

"After what I saw inside, so I assume that so are Mingyu's." Jihoon, who sits on the backseat between Chan and Minghao, complains. He has his sunglasses on and the position of his hands resembles the body of someone who was buried six feet under. The dull tone of his voice just adds to it.

Mingyu’s brows shoot up once again in a quizzical expression. "In my defense, you should have knocked before coming in, hyung. I know you all feel at home here but it doesn't mean you can come at any given time and then complain for seeing something you don’t like." Mingyu reasons, but he knows it will go in one ear and then out the other in the end. His friends have no sense of privacy and personal space whatsoever.

"I don't mind.” Soonyoung inhales the joint he presses between his thumb and index finger, and adds, after the smoke has settled in his lungs, “To be honest, I'd probably buy your sex tape. Well, not buy as I’m broke these days but I’d definitely download it illegally."

A symphony of several groans echoes in the car, but comically enough, none of them come from Mingyu. Soonyoung gets so clueless when he is high, filter disappearing completely, but it’s nothing Mingyu can’t take.

"You’re best friends, hyung, what are you even talking about?" Minghao asks displaying an expression of disgust that offers nothing besides outrage.

“Gross, Kwon. And that comes from someone who has just stepped in on their friends fucking.” Jihoon rasps out, trying to convince himself the bathroom scene will soon vanish from his mind.

"I had a crush on him when we were fifteen."

Soonyoung counts.

"How's that? You're straight!" Chan butts in mimicking Minghao’s face.

Soonyoung turns around on the passenger seat the best he can so he can face the three boys occupying the backseat, "Chan, my youngest, sexuality is subjective. A spectrum. There’s several layers." He explains, annoyance loud in his voice.

This is the moment Minghao pushes open the door on his side over Chan's loud protests of _"No, no. That's not how heterosexuality works, that's not how heterosexuality works."_ And Mingyu would have thanked his youngest friend who thinks exactly like him if it wasn't for Minghao bolting out of the car abruptly.

Minghao snickers rolling his eyes and approaches the car windows to demand the cake, and when Seokmin finally hands him the plastic container, it is shoved on Mingyu’s hands for him to hold it. The boys continue to argue over things that don’t matter.

"Hey, asshole, do you read my messages at all?" The bleached haired asks in exasperation.

Mingyu balances the cake on one hand and digs the other inside of both of his pockets feeling them empty and suddenly remembering his phone is probably somewhere on his bedroom floor. "Shit, I was busy. Sorry."

"I said and I'm quoting it: Boys are coming over with a big ass cake to surprise Wonwoo-hyung–period–Talk to him asap–period–This is an ultimatum.”

Mingyu sighs and leaves Minghao behind to get inside the house, trying to run away from the subject, but the other follows him through the entire length of the pavement path that leads them to the porch steps.

“You promised you’d talk to him until his birthday. It is his birthday!” Mingyu and Minghao jog the four steps up and get inside the house, where the taller amongst the two swirls around his body to face his friend, cake still in his hands.

“Minghao, I’m not discussing it now.”

“Why?” the younger retaliates. “Now’s as good a time as any!”

And that’s where Minghao is wrong. Things are great the way they are today. Wonwoo has opened up a little bit and they should be able to maintain it like this at least for a while. Mingyu is not capable of deliberately spoiling his own happiness like that.

“No, fuck that, it surely isn't. The house is full and Wonwoo is feeling embarrassed because of you shitheads. How am I supposed to tell him that I’m in love with him like that, outta the blue? This is not how it goes.”

“Sometimes I think you enjoy being only his fuck buddy. You've been head over heels for him for far too long now and that's the only possible reason for you putting off this conversation every chance you get.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mingyu blurts at the accusation. Has Minghao ever listened to all the times Mingyu whined about his situation with Wonwoo? Has he heard it at all or Mingyu has talked with the bungalow’s walls all this time? Mingyu has sounded like a horny teenager to him all this time? “I enjoy having sex with him, of fucking course. Best lay I ever had, but I want more. First time we met there was something pulling us together; Wonwoo-hyung was just my type and all, so I figured I'd hit it and take it out of my system the next day... But time passed and we continued having sex and I kinda got attached. I mean, how could I not? Boy is a dream. Wonwoo-hyung’s probably the coolest person I've ever met and he is mature and cool as fuck too.”

Albeit several things might have made Mingyu feel the pull towards Wonwoo, he can’ count what these things are specifically. He is still.on his way of coming to terms regarding Wonwoo having it all; maybe Wonwoo can’t please everyone’s tastes as he is no God, but his he definitely does. Wonwoo’s the whole package and Mingyu has never met someone who suited him so perfectly, both sexually and emotionally.

“Guys…” Wonwoo’s voice comes from a couple meters behind and Mingyu observes Minghao’s eyes grow wide as the boy leans a little to the side to look at something over the taller’s shoulders.

Mingyu swears he is sulking in a black hole and falling in the nothingness. It’s over. It’s the end. And yet, his body betrays his mind and moves to face Wonwoo, who stands, fidgety and a bit taken aback, in front of the counter and stools that separate the kitchen from the living room, two seemingly empty mugs and the pot of sugar on the countertop. The tallest cupboards are open and Mingyu blames Wonwoo for moving like this again, making it difficult for anybody else to notice his arrival.

“My bad, Gyu.” Minghao shakes his head in desperation. “I wanted you two to talk but not like this.”

The male is out the front door a second later, probably running for his life, fearing Mingyu’s anger. Mingyu, however, is still there and sees no way out as he cranes his neck to the side, getting ready for a difficult conversation that he wishes he could postpone only one more time until he is comfortable with the prospect of it. He pads further inside the living room towards a confused and surprised Wonwoo and drops the cake on the counter with all the stuff Wonwoo has placed there for their coffee.

“Is it true?” The boy gives him an apprehensive, cryptic sideways glance. “I don't wanna embarrass you but… Is it true? You really mean it?”

Mingyu turns his back to the counter, hands behind his body, gripping on the edges and Wonwoo’s by his side. There’s silence. Mingyu is used to these little moments that seem to stretch between them since the beginning. It gives him a little more time to gather all the courage he needs. Confessing is all he has been thinking about lately, and yet, he isn’t sure which words he should use to make himself clear.

“I was. I am. But it wasn’t supposed to go like that.” He breaks his brief silence and shakes his head, closing his eyes and feeling less confident now that they’re not in his bed, not in his shower anymore. This whole thing is symptomatic. “It’s exactly what I meant. I’d use better words but I can't take them back now, can I?”

Wonwoo nods painfully slow and folds his arms not over his chest but around it, hugging his own body and gravitating closer to Mingyu to face him properly. He’s shirtless under his unbuttoned plain shirt and tucked inside his jeans again, looking so cozy Mingyu could snuggle him all day. “And… You wanna stop? That's why Minghao said we should talk?” He asks.

Mingyu’s eyes flick open in a heartbeat. Wonwoo’s close but they still have a good meter between them. “What? No, I'd never want to stop. I do like you. I like you a lot to be honest. How can I stop this, whatever this is, if I want even more? I want this and whatever’s supposed to come after this, I guess.” He confesses in a rushed tone.

“So what you’re saying is… You want this and that too? As in... You have feelings and you want us to evolve to something else?”

Mingyu can’t believe it. Even though he hadn’t said with all these words before, he still wonders how Wonwoo could have been so clueless. During the past month everything seemed so different to him, but apparently Wonwoo hadn’t noticed the subtle changes at all. “Shit, Wonwoo, I’m sorry. I don't want to be rude but am I rambling? Like, just tell me if I’m confusing you. You know I’m lame when I open my mouth.”

“No, you’re not.” Wonwoo shakes his head no, convicted and cautious as usual. “Not rambling and not lame. At all. I'm just trying to get this right. I've been through tough moments the past week and it got worse when I thought I had fucked up big time by kissing you out of nowhere.” Then he pauses, noticing he has started to talk more rapidly than is acceptable to anyone who is still digesting this entire conversation.

“What happened this week?” Mingyu is not sure what Wonwoo means by claiming to had experienced tough days or what their kiss downtown has to do with it, but his brain does try to rewind a few days and capture signs of it. Mingyu starts to feel awful for not noticing Wonwoo had problems too.

“You happened.” He answers quietly but Mingyu continues confused, so Wonwoo shrugs. “You have always treated me well, of course, and it’s… Sweet and great. I talked about it with Junhui and Jihoon last night and I ended up visiting my feelings.” He lets his arms fall to his sides, changing his approach on the matter. “Mingyu-yah, speaking of last night–“

“Do you remember last night?” Mingyu asks with confusion clogging his mind.

“I'm a lightweight, but I didn't have that much too drink.” Wonwoo’s eyes drop to his feet. “The past week was really good because we had great moments, but difficult as fuck too. I had a lot to think about. Whatever this is–I've been referring to us like this for months–, contrary to what I suggested, I don't want you to stop as well. Whatever this is I don't want to stop. I genuinely thought you were about to end it all. And it hurt me so bad to think about it. It hurt me more than it would hurt if this was only,” another pause, “sex.”

“What…?” Mingyu trails off biting his lip. He is positive this is only a misunderstanding, “hyung, you don't have to say these things to make me feel better. Don't feel guilty if you’re not interested or if you think I’m too young and not your type at all.”

Mingyu spots a little something there in the way Wonwoo’s eyes get interested at his response, when they shift from confused to a little helpless as the male bites the inside of his right cheek in the process. “Not my type?” He asks in response. “Are you even listening to yourself right now? That’s far from how I feel.We've been having sex for eight months non-stop and exclusively. How are you not my type?”

“I mean the type you fall in love with. Sex is sex, isn't it? Sex is not that important.” Mingyu retorts, bothered by the sole thought of it. He can’t remember a single time when sex with Wonwoo hasn’t felt like something else, something fun and fascinating.

Even on their first time, something about the two of them getting intimate like they’ve knew each other for more than the days that they did in reality, had been different. Mingyu had found partners who would pleasure him in incredible ways before Wonwoo came along, but none for so long. He sees now, it was just a matter of time for him to develop feelings.

“It wouldn’t be like this if I was with anybody else, but at some point it has become important to me. I started to crave you all the time. I'm not only interested in sex. Being with you became a huge part of my routine, I feel happier when were around each other.”

Wonwoo makes it seem easy to say all the words Mingyu has struggled with for the past weeks. Wonwoo is just standing there after having described exactly how Mingyu feels, biting on his holy and swollen lips, bruised from all the biting and tugging and kissing. Still, this is the scene that Mingyu’s brain will play on his mind anytime he daydreams about Wonwoo from now on, this is the scene that will get him through his most difficult nights.

“Shit, yes, exactly.” He bursts in surprise, but feels a little numb at the same time, still trying to wrap his mind around Wonwoo’s intentions. “I’ve been trying to tell you this for weeks… But every moment I tried, something would come up or I would give up because it never seemed the proper time. Hyung, I've fucked a fair share of people and–“

Wonwoo closes his eyes shut and scrunches his nose as a spoiled child would. “Mingyu-yah, are you trying to make me feel jealous?” Wonwoo asks under his breath, similar to the way he whispered those beautiful and loving words against the skin of Mingyu’s body inside the bedroom, hours before.

Mingyu detaches himself from the countertop and dashes forward, wanting to assure Wonwoo that there’s no one on his mind except for him. He holds Wonwoo’s face between his hands and tips his own head down to make up for their slight height difference. “No, never! What I meant was, although you weren't my first, I've never felt as good with anyone as I feel with you, hyung. They really mean it when they say sex with someone you love is the best kind of sex ever. I nearly blurted that I'm so gone for you earlier when you said you’re mine.” Mingyu confesses and runs his thumb across Wonwoo’s cheek, following an invisible path to his jawline.

“I said this?” Wonwoo asks opening his eyes with laziness, then shakes his head as much as Mingyu’s hands allow him too. He smirks, “I'm kidding, I know what I said. I promise I meant every little word I've said the times we were together.”

Mingyu’s hands drop to Wonwoo’s shoulders, then slip down his arms and finally find a safe place on his narrow hips. “Yeah?” Mingyu smirks too, “even the ‘Mingyu-yah, I've never been dicked so good because you're huge’?” The younger asks in a teasing tone, trying to ease the atmosphere with playful banter more than to boost his ego.

“I think you're confusing real Wonwoo to the one living in your wildest dreams.” He warns but Mingyu knows they’re the same person. Wonwoo’s all he wants and dreams about. “Shit, you have a great personality and to top it off, your dick is amazing.” His lips curl into a foxy smile that can be a lethal combination if aligned with his pirate smile. Mingyu loves it. Mingyu loves how they’re always joking around.

“See? This is what I’m talking about.” Mingyu gestures the boy with his chin. He feels his body warm up inside of his shirt, his face might be reddening right now. He starts to scratch the fabric of Wonwoo’s shirt with his short nails in slow circles. “Your smile and lips are things I think about lots, you know? They make everything easier. You give me butterflies and a boner every single day.” Mingyu confesses, not a single ounce of shame on his being. He feels great again, comfortable in Wonwoo’s presence, even though they’re not in a bed.

“That's the most romantic thing anyone ever told me.”

Next thing Mingyu knows, Wonwoo’s lips are on his, not moving but just touching there. It’s one of those kisses that have quickly become so dear to him. Two in a week–he feels so damn lucky, so damn his.

Wonwoo pulls away too fast for Mingyu’s taste, so he pulls him closer again and steals another kiss with a soft tug on his hips. The little hum Wonwoo lets out when their lips touch again is alluring.

Pulling away, Mingyu assures Wonwoo that he can speak now, a big smile on his face, unable to be kept at bay. Wonwoo huffs out a breathless laugh too, arms hugging Mingyu’s torso.

“Will you date me now? That's what we both want, right? We should make it official now.” Wonwoo prompts, his eyes are concerned but how can he still have doubts about it? There’s nothing Mingyu wants more than being with him.

Still, although it’s a wonderful surprise to have his feelings returned by the one and only Jeon Wonwoo, something still concerns Mingyu. “Yes, I’ll date you but Minghao will kill me if I tell him you were the one who brought it up and not the other way around, hyung.” He answers, still feeling a little lightheaded but confident on his words.

“We can always hide this from him. Are they coming inside?”

Mingyu’s hands move to stroke Wonwoo’s back affectionately. He loves it. They have been official for less than a minute but he already loves it.

“They’re busy hotboxing Jihoon-hyung’s car and talking about the boundaries of sexuality. I mean…” He shrugs and Wonwoo tightens his lips to stop a grin from forming on his face.

“No Chinese spies? That's disappointing.”

“Bet they won't come inside anytime sooner.”

“Good. Glad to know we have some alone time in the house.” Wonwoo jolts away so they can look each other properly in the eye. “Oh, unless you wanna go surfing, of course.”

The taller moves his hand upwards and strokes his thumb on his cheek, admiring the boy in front of him the way he never had the chance to before. “Eh, not really. Surf can wait.”

“Surf can definitely wait.” Wonwoo nods his face fiercely and hooks his fingers on the collar of Mingyu’s shirt, pulling him closer while his own feet move backwards, in the direction of the center of the living room. “I know something that can't, though.” He says and shoves Mingyu on the couch, chuckling all the way there.

(They don't have sex, but eat lots of ice cream cake because it’s Wonwoo’s favorite. Being around each other has never felt so intimate.)

**Author's Note:**

> (please stream) THANKS! :D
> 
> EDIT2: I might write a self-indulgent prequel for this work at some point. Lets wait and see what the future holds.
> 
> EDIT3: the infamous self-indulgent prequel is on the way.


End file.
